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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814939">The Scales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93'>robindrake93</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Sex, Baby Betas (Teen Wolf), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Come Eating, Cooking, Crossdressing, Dressing Room Sex, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Ghosts, Hospitalization, Ice Skating, Knotting, Light Angst, Lingerie, Lydia Martin &amp; Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Post-Nogitsune, Scents &amp; Smells, School Dances, Semi-Public Sex, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, Wolf Derek Hale, Wolf Instincts, first snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:35:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One peaceful December in the lives of Stiles and Derek.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenetic777/gifts">Jenetic777</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This needs to be prefaced with a disclaimer that I wrote this in 2016 for my beta. And once I posted the first four(ish) chapters of this story in 2017 under a different name (and title - Momma_Ran/RanUzumaki and it used to be called Feral Hearts) but wound up deleting all of my works under that name and never posting this in full. So if anyone recognizes it - hi, hello.</p><p>More tags will be added as I upload each chapter. </p><p>If you don't like the font color, click "Hide Creators' Style" at the top and it'll revert to black.</p><p>Don't reupload/repost my fics.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy"><p>The moment the blizzard clears up, Derek is bounding out of the back door of Sheriff Stilinski's house. He heads straight for the woods, streaking across the backyard in nothing but the skin he was born in. Once familiar, the forest is now covered in white snow that gives only the scents of clean and cold. Derek's breath comes out in a white fog around his mouth. When he reaches the woods – woods that he's spent a lot of time in – Derek pauses to look around. It's so different with the blanket of glistening snow covering everything. He casts a wary glance around the perimeter then changes shape. The shift from human to wolf only takes a few seconds; a blink and you miss it type of deal.<br/>
</p>
<p>     Stiles finally joins Derek in the woods, panting from the unexpected run. After he catches his breath he glares at Derek. “You do realize that I have neighbors, right? You can't just go running ass naked into the woods, okay? We're lucky that none of them have called the cops on you.”<br/>
</p>
<p>     At that, Derek gives a huff. They may call the cops but the Sheriff is Stiles' father. He isn't going to keep them apart even if Derek is seven years older than the Sheriff's underage son. Besides, they literally save the entire county so Derek is of the opinion that if they want to spend their downtime together fucking and being grossly romantic then that's something they deserve. To reassure his mate, Derek headbutts Stiles' side. As a wolf he's tall, the top of his head coming up to Stiles' chest. He loves this form.<br/>
</p>
<p>     Stiles rubs between Derek's ears. Now that he's gotten in his lecture, he seems content to just look around. The silence doesn't last longer than a few seconds. “It's weird seeing everything covered in snow.”<br/>
</p>
<p>     Which would sound weird anywhere else except that in Derek's 24 years of life, he's never once seen it snow in Beacon Hills either. Together they walk deeper into the forest, taking a moment to look around. The snow is muffling the sounds of not-so-distant traffic but it crunches under Stiles' sneakers. It blankets everything with a few inches of sparkling white, making the woods look almost unfamiliar. Derek flicks his ear in agreement.<br/>
</p>
<p>     They come to a tree where the snow is trickling between the pine needles, like sand trickling down the world's slowest hourglass. The snow drifts to the ground almost lazily. It's mesmerizing to Derek's wolf. He trots over to it and snaps at the flakes as though they've personally done him wrong. The snowflakes are cold on his tongue and melt almost instantly. It brings out Derek's rarely-indulged play instinct. His wolf is delighted with the snow. Derek takes off bounding through the powder, snapping at what he kicks up. Snow settles in his black fur but he hardly feels it through his thick coat.<br/>
</p>
<p>     Even though the full shift is something that only his family could do, Derek kind of wishes that the rest of his pack could join him in their fur. The wolf in him wants to dance and play so that's exactly what he does.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles' laughter is what draws Derek back. He's recording Derek's play and wiping tears from his eyes. There's no doubt that he's going to be sending that to everyone they know.<br/>
</p><p>     Oh. Stiles is going to get it. Derek goes stock still but Stiles hasn't noticed yet. He swivels his ears forward and raises his tail; alpha posturing. He growls low in his throat. His wolf is practically vibrating with excitement.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles chokes on his laughter. He goes still when he notices Derek's body language. Slowly Stiles puts his phone into his jacket pocket. He lets out a nervous laugh that matches his souring scent. Sometimes Derek still scares him. It can't be helped.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek takes a step forward and growls, letting the hair along his scruff rise.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles turns heel and books it through the forest. This is probably the fastest that Derek has ever seen him run and it would be funny if he wasn't running from Derek himself. He doesn't seem to realize that he's running away from the relative safety of civilization.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek gives his mate a thirty second head start before surging after him. He's much faster than Stiles but he hangs back by seven feet, enjoying the chase. They speed through the forest, kicking up snow and panting. Derek can hear Stiles' heart pounding.<br/>
</p><p>     After a few minutes of hard running, Stiles shouts over his shoulder, “Stop teasing me!” Then promptly trips over a rock and falls flat on his face.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek has to refrain from howling lest he summon the pack. He pounces on his mate, paws never once touching Stiles when he lands. His front paws are in the snow on either side of Stiles' head and his back ones are lower down Stiles' body. His wolf is singing in sweet victory at having caught his mate because once the chase is over, it's time to mate. Derek lowers his muzzle to the back of Stiles' neck and gently bites down.<br/>
</p><p>     His fangs don't come close to puncturing flesh but Stiles' heart still skips a beat. He stays completely still even after Derek releases him. Arousal has replaced the sour scent of fear, sweet and thick on Derek's tongue like honey.<br/>
</p><p>     In a matter of seconds Derek is human again. The chill dances along his skin but his blood naturally runs warmer than the average human's so he easily ignores it. Well, he runs warmer than Stiles anyway, whose trembling beneath him. Derek presses his lips to the back of Stiles' neck where he bit him just a moment ago. Then he mouths to the side of Stiles' neck, to kiss the tattoo there. It's a triskelion just like the one between Derek's shoulder blades but much smaller.<br/>
</p><p>     A soft moan slips out from Stiles' parted lips. The sweet scent of his arousal grows warmer and sweeter.<br/>
</p><p>     It's like a punch to Derek's gut, like a fire is set inside him. He grinds down against Stiles' ass, growling lowly because he knows Stiles likes it when he 'wolfs out.'<br/>
</p><p>     Even though he's human, Stiles knows the differences between Derek's growls. His breath hitches then he's rubbing back against Derek, raising up his hips. “I take it you like snow.”<br/>
</p><p>     Derek's hips stutter. He licks a hot stripe up Stiles' neck. He's getting hotter, burning up from the inside out as desire floods his system. “Snow is okay.” He ruts hard against Stiles' ass, pushing his hips into the ground. “You're better.”<br/>
</p><p>     This prompts a needy whine from the teenager. “Good to know I rank above snow.” Stiles quickly rolls over, belly up, so that they're facing each other. His face is pink from where it had direct contact with the snow and his teeth chatter. But his eyes - so black it's hard to tell where his pupils begin and his irises end – they're gleaming with mischief.<br/>
</p><p>     For a split second it takes Derek's breath away; not in a good way. Sometimes he worries that this Stiles isn't the one that he knew before the Nogitsune possessed him. Well, he isn't, but Derek means in a more impactful way. As if maybe they killed the real Stiles and now they're left with this imitation. But his wolf's concern for his mate wins out in the end. Derek can't just let Stiles shiver in the snow. He grabs Stiles by the hips and rolls them over so that the teen is on top. The chill of the snow causes a hiss to slip out between Derek's clenched teeth. Thankfully it still isn't enough to kill his boner.<br/>
</p><p>     Though that may have something to do with Stiles hand wrapped around Derek's cock. He smiles down at Derek as he pumps his hand up and down, twisting a bit on the upstroke. Stiles' hips rock down.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek can feel the bulge of Stiles' cock in his jeans. “I want you,” his voice is low with want. His hands move to Stiles' zipper. In seconds he has the button undone and the zipper pulled down.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles is nodding, eager even though it's cold outside. He gasps when exposed to that cold but is already trying to shove his jeans down enough to allow for penetration to happen. He shivers harder, wrapping his other hand around his own cock to keep himself warm and hard.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek can feel the heat coming from Stiles' crotch. He wants badly to be in that heat, to be surrounded by Stiles' tight body. “Lube?” He asks because he has to.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles rubs his thumb over the wet head of Derek's cock, rubbing circles against the slit. “You're wet enough.”<br/>
</p><p>     The touch and Stiles words send arousal through Derek like lightning. His cock jerks in Stiles' hand. He nods acknowledgment, almost absently because soon he's going to be inside of his mate.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles is practically purring as he lines himself up with Derek. He looks so fucking satisfied as he sinks down onto Derek's waiting cock. A pathetic little sound of pleasure leaves his lips.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek holds himself as still as possible. He's trembling with cold and desire equally. Stiles is on top so Stiles is the one who controls their pace. It feels so good to have Stiles around him. He loves how Stiles pulses around his cock, how hot and slick his body is. Derek shivers again and his hips jerk up just a little bit before he can stop them.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles makes another little noise of pleasure. His body clenches around Derek's cock. He lifts himself up and slides down, starting a jerky rhythm. “It's cold so let's be quick, okay?”<br/>
</p><p>     All Derek can do is nod. Quick works for him.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles is looking down at him with his rosy cheeks and his black eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Derek, fuck me.” It's an order, a demand.<br/>
</p><p>     So Derek fucks him. He rolls his hips up until Stiles is flush against him. A moan rumbles in his throat. Derek sets a fast pace, hands on Stiles' hips to hold him still. His gaze stays on Stiles' face, memorizing every expression.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles throws his head back in ecstasy, moans dripping from his lips. “Oh, Derek!” His nails scrape Derek's forearms as he struggles not to touch his cock. It's pink with the cold, precum beading on the head.<br/>
</p><p>     The cold must be painful. Derek wishes he could fuck Stiles and give him head at the same time. Unfortunately even he isn't that flexible. So he settles for brushing Stiles' prostate with every thrust and curling his fingers around Stiles' cock. Precum slicks his hand, more of it oozing from the slit of Stiles' cock as it's stimulated. Derek wouldn't ever tell Stiles this but for a human he produces <i>a lot</i> of precum. It's enough that in seconds Derek's hand is coated with it.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles is loud in the quiet of the woods. He's the loudest thing in the forest right now and probably doesn't even know it. He babbles between moans, “yes, please, oh god, oh Derek, just like that, please, please, please.” Stiles bounces on Derek's cock, lifting up and dropping back down with keens.<br/>
</p><p>     Derek likes that he always knows how Stiles is feeling, loves how vocal he is. He pumps him faster, makes an effort to thrust in harder until Stiles is just along for the ride. Derek slams into Stiles over and over, making sure to brush against his prostate repeatedly to draw out those delicious moans. The snow is cold on his back but he barely even feels it at this point. The only thing going through his mind is that he has to pleasure his mate.<br/>
</p><p>     After a few minutes of this Stiles hastily pulls up his shirt. His nipples are stiff and so pink. He rides Derek a few more thrusts more before he's cumming in streaks of white on his own stomach. His moan as he orgasms is softer than the previous ones, like it's private. Just for Derek to hear.<br/>
</p><p>     It's so sexy. It also appeals greatly to Derek's wolf, who is singing with satisfaction at having pleased his mate. Derek runs a finger through the warm cum then brings it to his mouth to taste his mate. He loves how Stiles tastes.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles is watching him openly, licking his lips as though he can taste it too. “Cum for me. Cum <i>in</i> me.”<br/>
</p><p>     That's all that Derek needs to orgasm. Pleasure surges through his cock. He moans as he fills Stiles, fingers digging into his hips. Derek takes a second to enjoy the bliss before getting to work. Stiles is still cold and they need to get him home. He pulls out with a groan and licks up the cum on Stiles' stomach. Then he tucks Stiles back into his jeans and makes his clothes look semi-presentable.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek's forehead.<br/>
</p><p>     “Let's go home.” Derek changes shape so that he's a.) not naked and b.) warmer.<br/>
</p><p>     Stiles buries a hand in Derek's fur as they start walking back home. “You think this month is gonna be a good one? It's gotta be with a start like that, right? I mean, the universe <i>has</i> to give us at least one good month. Balance, right?”<br/>
</p><p>     There's blatant fear in Stiles' voice and Derek can't blame him. He nuzzles Stiles, his silent way of saying that he hopes so too.</p></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cooking Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek and Stiles have some fun with the sugar.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>The heat of the oven warms Stiles' face as he opens the door. He quickly slides the cookie tray in then closes the door. His cheeks are pink, face warmed from the high temperature. Stiles hums along to the radio, set to a Christmas station of course. The house is filled with the sweet scent of kiss cookies baking. It's a damn good night.
</p>
  <p>     Even though Stiles should technically be panicking right now. In fact, his anxiety should be driving him through the roof. Lydia's Christmas party is happening <i>right now</i> and Stiles is <i>late.</i> He checks the clock. By twenty minutes already. But he overslept and wanted the cookies to be fresh so he hadn't made them the night before like his dad suggested. His own fault for not listening. Yet Stiles can't really make himself care.
</p>
  <p>     He's in a warm house that smells delicious with good music playing in the background. Everything is perfect.
</p>
  <p>     Arms wrap around Stiles' waist and soft lips press to his neck. It's accompanied by the scratch of stubble and a firm body flush against his.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is practically purring with happiness. He puts his hands over Derek's hands, laces their fingers together and squeezes. “Hey there, sourwolf.” He couldn't keep the smile off his face if he tried. And he isn't trying. It's been so long since Stiles has been able to smile so easily.
</p>
  <p>     Derek makes a happy rumbling noise in his throat as he nuzzles Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nuzzles back until he realizes that he forgot to set the timer for the cookies. “Oh shit!” He pulls out of Derek's grasp and quickly calculates how long it's been since he put the cookies in the oven then sets the timer for the remainder. While he's standing by the counter it only makes sense to clean up a little. Stiles starts by putting the sugar jar away. He closes the lid on it and notices that his fingers are still dusted with white sugar grains. He raises them to examine them in the light and laughs at the sugar beneath his nails.
</p>
  <p>     When was the last time he even had sugar beneath his nails? Stiles doesn't remember. Though it does bring back the memory of picking out the blood from beneath his nails every night while he was possessed by the Nogitsune. Things sometimes got...messy.
</p>
  <p>     But hey. That was in the past. Sure, sometimes he still gets blood beneath his nails but right now it's just sugar. At least it's just sugar. Oh god, he's so fucked up.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles barely realizes that his hands are trembling. His vision is going blurry and when he blinks water rolls down his cheeks. Not water, tears. He's crying and still laughing. A strangled noise comes from his throat, a muffled keen.
</p>
  <p>     “Stiles?” Derek is beside him in an instant, looking between Stiles and his hands. There's a frown on his beautiful face, his brow furrowed with concern. He looks unsure of himself. “Are you having a panic attack?”
</p>
  <p>     Is he? Stiles is inclined to think not. Just a break down. He says as much. His hands are still raised and if he looks at them directly he can see the blood that's stained them in the past.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's features morph from concern and uncertainty to something softer that resembles pity but isn't quite. He gently takes Stiles' wrists. “What's going on in that head of yours, Stiles? You were fine just a second ago.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek has blood on his hands too; the blood of his family. His blue eyes are proof enough of that. And there are so, so many more who have been hurt by Derek. Mostly werewolves but still; it's more blood on his hands. How does he do it? How does he handle this?
</p>
  <p>     Stiles didn't really even kill anyone that he cares about let alone someone he loves. He can't imagine it, doesn't want to. His mind strays to his mother though and one of his biggest fears crops up; that even before the Nogitsune, Stiles' eyes would be blue if he were a werewolf. That's one of the reasons he refuses the bite every time it's offered. “PTSD. The sugar,” he blinks back tears, “at least it isn't blood this time.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is only paying enough attention to Derek to note that he looks lost. He's too preoccupied with sugar and blood. His hands are shaking so much he couldn't stop them if he tried.
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes Stiles' hand in his and then pops two of Stiles' fingers into his mouth. Just like that with no preamble or hesitation. He sucks on the sugary digits, tongue prodding along Stiles' nails.
</p>
  <p>     It's a strange sensation but not necessarily a bad one.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sucks and licks Stiles' two fingers until there's no more sugar on them. Then he releases them with a pop.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles isn't sure what to think of this except that his cock sure seems to like it. He's too stunned to think about blood. He stares at Derek in surprise because Derek just isn't the type of person to do this.
</p>
  <p>     As though this is normal, Derek sucks on Stiles' ring finger. His mouth is warm and wet; and probably tastes like sugar. His tongue is slick and strange as it curls around Stiles' finger. He makes obscene noises as he's sucking on it, little wet noises and humming.
</p>
  <p>     Whatever Stiles was upset about is forgotten thanks to Derek's mouth. His brain is still going a hundred miles per minute but it's all focused on Derek's perfect mouth. Stiles has only ever that mouth wrapped around his cock or sucking marks into his neck. This is so weird and different and Stiles thinks that he likes it.
</p>
  <p>     Derek releases Stiles' ring finger with a quiet gasp then goes for his pinky. His teeth graze the slender digit.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' other fingers are shiny and sugar-free. He lets Derek go at it, unsure if he really wants it to stop. They just don't do finger sucking. God, even thinking of that term is making Stiles' cheeks turn pink. There isn't anything wrong with it and now Stiles is wondering <i>why</i> they don't do it.
</p>
  <p>     Fast work is made with his pinky and Derek is quickly moving on to Stiles' thumb. He bites it lightly, hazel eyes teasing when he looks down at Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles humphs because he doesn't know what else to do. This has somehow managed to shut him up. He doesn't even know why. It's not a kiss. God, maybe he should get more sugar under his nails. With his free hand, Stiles finds the sugar container and dips his entire right hand into it. “Whoops.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek lifts his head away from Stiles' left hand. His hazel eyes narrow at him as his gaze flits from Stiles' face to his sugar-coated hand. Though he doesn't say a word, the sentiment is clearly there in the 'what the fuck' expression on his face.
</p>
  <p>     “Hazards of baking, I guess.” Stiles grins. He's so transparent but it doesn't even matter. The finger thing is something that Derek is clearly into and Stiles kind of likes it too.
</p>
  <p>     Derek grabs Stiles wrist, just below where the sugar ends. He licks a wet stripe up Stiles' wrist and palm. Derek's tongue licks cool stripes along Stiles' hand, his breath warming the spots in the next moment. He's relentless in his attack, making quick work of all the sugar that Stiles' hand is coated with. It's almost as though he's secretly a sugar junkie. Oh wait.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is almost tempted to dip his other hand in the sugar just to make Derek lick that too but he draws the line at the idea of werewolf spit mixed in with perfectly good sugar. He'd have to throw it all away and frankly the Stilinski's couldn't afford to throw anything away for no good reason. But it's okay because Stiles is getting really worked up just watching Derek. His hands are more sensitive than he realized; especially the webbing between his fingers. Being up close and personal with Derek's tongue is definitely making Stiles' blood rush south.
</p>
  <p>     When Stiles hand is clean – and thoroughly coated in werewolf saliva – Derek pulls away. His lips are wet and there's a hazy look in his hazel eyes. “We should get going. We're already late.” Derek glances at the cookies then hip checks Stiles out of the way and pulls them out of the oven. There's still ten seconds left on the timer on the microwave.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles can't believe what he's hearing. He waits until Derek has set the cookies down before grabbing Derek by the hips and grinds against his perfect ass. “Do we have to? What's another thirty minutes?” He's whining and he knows it but Derek can't just leave him hanging like this.
</p>
  <p>     “They're our friends and it's irresponsible to be any later than we are.” Derek doesn't have to say it but if they arrive any later it's going to paint Derek in a bad light. Even though it's Stiles' fault. Because Derek is the adult so every bad thing that Stiles does reflects badly on Derek and only serves to fuel the <i>'Derek is a bad person for being in love with a teenager and Stiles is too young to realize when he's being manipulated in a relationship'</i> fire. It isn't a pleasant fire at all.
</p>
  <p>     It's stupid and it doesn't even really make sense but no one has ever claimed that society is smart. Stiles sighs and loosens his grip on Derek a little. He leans his cheek against the spot between Derek's shoulder blades, knowing that his tattoo is right there under the tight shirt he's wearing. “Fine! But you're fucking my mouth when we get home.” He says it like a threat but it's hard to threaten someone with something they enjoy. That makes it more of a promise. Or, if Stiles felt like being an adult, he would say that it's a <i>compromise.</i>
</p>
  <p>     Derek squeezes Stiles' hands briefly. His heart is pounding faster now that he's got the promise of a treat later. “It's only a few hours.” It sounds like he's trying to convince himself.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles grins. He could sway Derek to stay right now but it feels a little underhanded. So instead he starts putting the cookies in tins. He reaches up to plant a quick kiss on Derek's stubbled jaw. “Right. Only a few hours. I mean, we can't have them thinking that we're sex-crazed heathens even though half of them are going to be able to smell the desire on us.” It's going to be a long and probably awkward few hours.
</p>
  <p>     Derek groans.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs. “That's the spirit.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Christmas Shopping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek have more semi-public sex while Christmas shopping.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p><b>Isaac: You're whipped.</b>
</p>
  <p>     Derek frowns down at his phone, hoping that Isaac can sense the expression. He gives up after a minute to start paying attention to his boyfriend.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is talking about what he wants to get everyone for Christmas. “I don't have a lot of money but I wanna get everyone a little something. Nothing too big. Just a thing to say 'hey I'm glad that you're alive and thanks for saving my life a ton of times this year.'” Stiles walks by the scarves then pauses to stare at them. There's one with a paw print pattern. “Isaac would love this.” He tosses it into the cart.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sends a quick text to Isaac. <b>He's getting the packs Christmas presents so you had better return the favor.</b>
</p>
  <p>     Derek glances at the pet section as they walk by it. He knows that Stiles has an oral fixation and that he ends up chewing through a lot of his stuff – pens, headphones, cell phone cases, anything he can get into his mouth – and he kind of wants to get something safe for his mate to chew on. However, even Derek isn't dumb enough to try getting a dog toy for Stiles. Stiles doesn't make dog jokes – very much – anymore and since Derek is not only the older one but also the supernatural creature...well he doesn't want to treat Stiles like Kate treated him. Like a pet.
</p>
  <p>     Derek follows Stiles without really paying attention to where they're going. As far as he's concerned the entire trip is a waste of time. Who even goes shopping at stores anymore? Especially a teenager. So when Derek looks up to find them in the intimates section, he's a little surprised.
</p>
  <p>     “Do you think this is Lydia's color?” Stiles is holding up a pair of black lace underwear.
</p>
  <p>     “I thought you were over Lydia?” Derek can smell a faint whiff of arousal on Stiles as the teenager browses the lingerie. He knows that it hasn't been easy for Stiles to get over Lydia – though Derek looking like an underwear model might have helped a little – but he sort of thought that his underage boyfriend was over her. Like, he genuinely thought that he didn't have to worry about anything like this. <i>This</i> being Stiles aroused by the thought of Lydia in lingerie.
</p>
  <p>     Not that she isn't attractive but. Maybe Derek's just being stupid.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles spares him a glance, gauging Derek's mood. “I am.” He sighs as he sorts through the display of underwear, looking for what Derek assumes is Lydia's size. “Listen, you don't have anything to worry about in terms of me running off with Lydia or Malia,” here Stiles pauses as he thinks about it, “Or anyone in Scott's pack,” Well that's reassuring. “I'm not buying it for her because I want to see her in it. I mean, I wouldn't mind but. Look, for every one of Lydia's birthdays and every Christmas that has passed since we entered middle school, I've bought her something ridiculously expensive from Macy's. Jewelry, a flat screen TV, make up, clothes. Usually some combination of all of those.”
</p>
  <p>     Jesus Christ.
</p>
  <p>     “So this year I'm buying her more clothes, but of the bedroom variety because we're older now and I know that she'll wear them. For someone, for herself. I don't know. But she will wear them.” Stiles holds up a pair of red underwear for Derek to see. “I thought I'd get her some underwear and bras and cute things like that. Maybe a robe. Probably a robe. Do you think they have one that would match these?” Stiles worries his lip between his teeth as he looks around the women's section.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sort of can't believe that this is <i>his</i> Stiles. This shopping trip is rearranging his perspective of Stiles as a person. Yes, all of the gift-buying for someone who barely acknowledged that he existed only a few years ago is creepy and painful. The strangeness of Stiles and Lydia's relationship is something that Derek isn't sure he even <i>wants</i> to understand. But what really gets him is that Stiles is, well, not <i>stylish.</i> He doesn't match any of his clothes, throws on whatever is most comfortable or practical. So seeing him trying to <i>match</i> fabrics and colors is strange.
</p>
  <p>     The whole situation is weird – like why is Derek even tagging along for this Christmas shopping trip? He isn't buying anyone anything from here – and all Derek can do is nod even though he doesn't understand it.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles picks out what he wants for Lydia, completely sure about her sizes. Then he turns to Derek and studies him. He tilts his head to the side and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Maybe I should get you some lingerie too.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes about two seconds to think it over. “I'll wear some if you do.” Isaac is right. He is whipped. But Derek can give as good as he gets. Though if he's honest, his jeans are a little tighter just thinking about Stiles in lingerie. Apparently this is a kink he didn't know he has.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles stares at him like he's lost his mind. Then he's grinning again. “You're on, sourwolf.” He holds up a finger. “Ah, ah, ah. No looking. You have to wear whatever I pick out for you.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek is suddenly a little nervous. To cover it up he snorts dismissively. “Fine. You have to do the same.” He leans forward to let his breath run hot over Stiles' neck. “See you at the dressing rooms in five.” Then he turns and strides away, leaving his boyfriend flustered and aroused. Derek doesn't go far - it isn't a huge intimate section – but he does get out of Stiles line of sight. He can hear Stiles mumbling to himself.
</p>
  <p>     “This is sexy. I think he'll break it with his dick though.” Stiles makes an indecisive noise. “Why is it all so damn delicate? My boyfriend is a werewolf for fucks sake.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek lets out an amused noise. He turns his attention back to his own search, trying to find something that won't make Stiles want to crawl out of his skin. He comes up with a sleeveless red hoodie and a pair of black stockings, complete with lace garter belt.
</p>
  <p>     Five minutes later he meets Stiles in the empty dressing room. This time of day there aren't a lot of customers, which was kind of the point of them doing their shopping here now. Stiles is holding something behind his back. His pale face is tinted pink all the way up to his ears. He snatches the stuff from Derek's hands in one second and shoves something <i>light</i> into them. Before Derek can say anything, Stiles has locked himself in one of the rooms.
</p>
  <p>nbsp;    Derek waits until the door locks behind him in his own dressing room – right across from Stiles – before he even looks at what's in his hands. It's pink. All of it. A soft, muted pink. The fabric is very thin and it doesn't look like there's much here at all. Certainly not enough to cover him. Derek could close his fist around it all and no one would even know he's holding it. Needless to say, Derek has some concerns. “Stiles,”
</p>
  <p>     From across the way Derek hears the sound of a zipper. “Yes, Derek?” He sounds overwhelmed. There's a shift of fabric – probably Stiles stepping out of his pants and shucking his shirt – then a quiet “oh god.” It's a horrified sort of whisper.
</p>
  <p>     Out of courtesy Derek pretends he didn't hear that. “This is pink.”
</p>
  <p>     “Yes, Derek.” There's a soft sound of fabric against skin.
</p>
  <p>     “Pink, Stiles?” Derek isn't a pink person. Despite this, he said that he would wear whatever Stiles gave him, so he pulls his shirt over his head and unzips his jeans. At least he isn't wearing underwear today.
</p>
  <p>     “Listen, I don't know if you know this but you have perfect skin and it's pretty much the same color as a gold pearl.” Stiles' voice is briefly muffled as he pulls the hoodie over his head. “The set I gave you is a muted pink that isn't obnoxious and the stockings have the same sort of sheen as your skin. So yes, Derek, pink.”
</p>
  <p>     Wow. Derek doesn't even know what to think about that. Except maybe that Stiles has been hanging around Lydia too much lately but obviously saying that wouldn't go over well. So he just says “okay” and focuses on not ripping the fabric as he carefully pulls it on. The garter belt, underwear, and tops of the stockings are made of very flimsy lace. Ripping them is a very real fear. He's glad that he doesn't always have claws out otherwise there would be no hope for the thin stockings. Derek adjusts the lengths of the straps for the belt then attaches them to the lacy part of the stockings.
</p>
  <p>     When he's done, he looks in the mirror. And, okay, he can admit that Stiles made some good choices. There's silence coming from the other dressing room, alerting him to the fact that Stiles is done changing. “I'm coming over, Stiles.”
</p>
  <p>     In response, Derek hears the lock being disengaged.
</p>
  <p>     Derek gathers up his clothes then pauses to listen for employees. When he's sure it's safe, Derek darts across the aisle to the dressing room Stiles is in. He locks the door before turning to his mate and dropping his clothes in the pile.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' blush extends from his ears and down to his neck. He won't meet Derek's eye and his hands are shoved in the pocket of the hoodie. Stiles has always been embarrassed of his body, no matter how much Derek worships it and tries to reassure him that he's beautiful. It got worse after the Nogitsune possessed him.
</p>
  <p>     But Derek is impressed, so impressed with his mate. He sees the scars that line Stiles' body as signs that he's strong. Of things to show off and say <i>'Look what my mate can survive! Look at how strong he is! He won this fight!'</i> Stiles doesn't like hearing it so Derek only eyes him, pleased that he's as sexy in this outfit as Derek imagined. The red and black contrast nicely on his pale white skin.
</p>
  <p>     “Honestly I don't think those underwear are going to survive your cock. They definitely weren't made to accommodate cock. Especially not one as big as yours.” Stiles is staring at Derek's crotch, at the bulge that the underwear makes, with a hungry look on his face. Slowly he drags his gaze back up to meet Derek's. “You look outrageously hot.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes that as his cue to close the distance between them. He rests his hands on Stiles' hips. “So do you. I could eat you up.” He gives Stiles' neck a playful nip.
</p>
  <p>     The bite makes Stiles sigh with contentment. “Red riding hood jokes, Derek?” He sounds like he's grinning. Stiles presses against Derek's hips and bares his neck for easier access.
</p>
  <p>     “I can be ironic too.” Derek tilts Stiles chin up and kisses him. Neither of them bring up the real reason Derek chose a hoodie. Instead, Derek bites Stiles' bottom lip as he minutely presses his hips back into Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles opens his mouth obediently. He tastes like coffee and chocolate. His arms come up to wrap around Derek's neck, causing his entire body to press flush against Derek's. Except in the next second he's backing away. “Whoa, maybe we should tone it down before your dick ruins those pretty underwear.” He's back to staring at Derek's cock.
</p>
  <p>     Derek completely ignores the suggestion even though he can feel the lace straining to keep his erection in check. He very carefully tears the tags off their clothing and drops them on the floor. Then he very deliberately grinds against Stiles again.
</p>
  <p>     This prompts an eye roll from the teen but he shifts so that Derek's thigh is between his legs. His cock is half hard but not threatening to ruin his red cotton underwear. Stiles is panting in a matter of seconds, letting out almost inaudible moans. He wraps his fingers around Derek's biceps to keep his balance.
</p>
  <p>     Derek backs him up against the mirror. He hikes Stiles up by his thighs and holds him in place. They aren't going to fuck but Derek isn't going to leave here without an orgasm and their height differences are annoying when standing and trying to jack them both off at the same time. He squeezes Stiles butt and rolls his hips so that his cock rubs against Stiles' dripping cock. “Looks like you're the one ruining your underwear,” Derek teases under his breath.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets out a meep at being picked up like that but is quick to wrap his legs around Derek's waist. He arches his back off the mirror and jerks his hips in short movements. His head tilts back to expose his throat, whining encouragement. If he heard Derek, then he ignores him.
</p>
  <p>     The invitation to sink his fangs into Stiles' neck sets Derek on fire. Heat curls in his belly and spreads throughout the rest of him. He shifts just his teeth and lets his eyes flash red. Then he gently takes Stiles' throat in his jaws. This isn't the first time that Derek has bitten Stiles like this.
</p>
  <p>     A soft moan vibrates in Stiles' throat as he tries not to be too loud. He moves a hand between them, pulling his own cock out of his underwear to stroke it. When he moves for Derek's cock, his hand is wet. There's a moment where he stills, being careful with the lace because fuck they are <i>not</i> going to rip it, but then he pulls most of Derek's cock out of the pink lace underwear. “Oh god, this is sexier than I thought it would be.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek pushes into Stiles' hand with a low groan. He swipes his tongue across the fresh bite marks to soothe the soreness.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles inhales shakily. He curls his hand around both of their cocks and starts pumping. His grip loosens and twists near the tops but tightens near the bottoms. In a matter of seconds his legs have started to shake.
</p>
  <p>     Derek keeps most of his attention on Stiles but some of it is directed outwards, listening to what's going on in the store. He's sure that Stiles doesn't want to get banned from a Macy's where they <i>know his name because he's been in here so many times.</i> But it's hard to focus on anything except how good his cock feels rubbing up against Stiles' cock and how Stiles gives off the scent of spiced peaches when he's aroused. Derek pants against his neck, trying to hold in his groans and growls.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is whispering his usual babble except it's so low, words only half formed, that Derek can't understand it. He sinks the nails of his free hand into Derek's shoulder and whines softly. His hand keeps moving, faster and faster.
</p>
  <p>     Derek mouths along Stiles neck, leaving wet spots and the faint indents of his teeth. His hips roll rhythmically into Stiles' hand. He squeezes Stiles' ass, a finger slipped into his underwear and pressed against his hole teasingly.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' legs are trembling around Derek's waist. He whispers “please Derek” over and over like a prayer. His thighs tighten around Derek's waist and the motions of his hand lose rhythm. The precum dripping from their cocks is soaking through the underwear. Stiles suddenly yanks his hand from Derek's bicep and uses it to cover his mouth. He cums with a muffled moan and a shudder. It only just barely avoids getting on the hoodie.
</p>
  <p>     There's no hope for these underwear now. None at all; except maybe the washing machine. The small dressing room is now saturated with the heady scent of Stiles' cum and it sets off Derek's wolf in a good way. His orgasm surges through him. He grits his teeth through it, trying to be quiet. Derek's heart is racing in his chest and he can hear Stiles' doing the same.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles raises his dirty hand to his mouth and licks off the cum. “'So I would highly recommend stealing these.” His voice is low and playful.
</p>
  <p>     Derek nods. There's no way that he's going to let anyone touch the clothes with their mixed scents. Even if no one knows what it means – and really, the cum is a dead giveaway – Derek is possessive and very much aware that Stiles isn't eighteen yet. He kisses Stiles – tastes them both on Stiles' tongue – then lowers his mate to his feet.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is looking at Derek like he's the one who hung the moon; a smile on his flushed face and a tune hummed under his breath.
</p>
  <p>     Not for the first time, Derek is struck by how much he loves Stiles. And if that makes him a little whipped then so be it.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"The real reason" Stiles is wearing the hoodie is lost on me. I don't remember why I made that decision. This was written four years ago. It feels like fifty.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Movie Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek and Stiles watch cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>The volume is turned low on the television but Derek can still hear every miserable word the mediocre actors and actresses are saying. There's apparently some drama with a World War Two nurse who lost her husband in the war. She's suffering because of it and Derek hates that he can relate to that. Though it's his own fault that his first love was killed. His second – much as he hates to think of her like that – is still alive. Probably. He wishes she were dead though.
</p>
  <p>     On the TV, the nurse and some orphan start talking about miracles and Derek is lost again. He doesn't believe in miracles. So he might sound a little grumpy but Derek never signed up to watch Hallmark Christmas movies.
</p>
  <p>     When Stiles invited him over to the Sheriff's house for movies, this was not at all what Derek was expecting. The last time this had happened, they'd watched Star Wars. This is like the opposite of Star Wars. Plus they're at the Stilinski household, which means that Derek can't even distract himself from this horrible movie with sex.
</p>
  <p>     The Sheriff is sleeping upstairs, having said good night when Stiles turned the Hallmark channel on. He'd grumbled under his breath that he wishes this was one tradition Stiles didn't uphold but only Derek was the one who heard it. Derek thinks that it has something to do with Stiles' mother.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is snuggled against Derek, his back pressed to Derek's front. His fingers are laced with Derek's resting on his hip. He's warm and his heartbeat is steady against Derek's chest. A blanket is draped over their waists and Stiles is still in his coat but he seems content. “I don't think I like this one,” he admits quietly as they watch the nurse wandering around 2016 looking confused when nothing is what it should be.
</p>
  <p>     Derek nuzzles the back of Stiles' neck. “I wouldn't complain if you changed the channel.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs. “I can't. I have one night of Hallmark movies every December. Mom used to love it, even near the end.” His voice grows tighter as he speaks. Sorrow permeates his scent, giving it a slightly bitter tint. “So I do it for her.”
</p>
  <p>     As someone who lived in the burnt ruins of his family home for almost a year, Derek can't really tell Stiles that he thinks it's crazy to watch shitty movies for his dead mother. That doesn't stop him from thinking about it. Instead he brings Stiles hand to his mouth and kisses his palm. “Sugar Tails.” His way of telling Stiles that he's sweet even if that sweetness is sad.
</p>
  <p>     “Sourwolf,” Stiles tugs on Derek's hand to kiss the back of it. The sadness is muted from his scent now, contentment taking over again.
</p>
  <p>     They fall silent again, eyes on the screen. Derek can admit that he doesn't like watching the woman stumble around wondering what happened. He hopes that the movie ends soon and something happier – and cheesier – comes on. In the meantime, though, Derek plants kisses along the back of Stiles neck. If Stiles wants to suffer through this then Derek will be here with him, for him.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dancing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles brings Derek to his Winter Formal dance.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles still isn't sure how Derek managed to forget about the Winter Formal. He straightens his tie in the mirror and smiles confidently at himself. The cologne he's wearing is subtle – because Derek likes extremely subtle artificial scents – and supposedly smells like amber but Stiles can't smell it. It's special, something that Deaton made specifically for Stiles after The Cologne Incident a few months ago. He adjusts the collar of his jacket then heads out of the bathroom and back into the gym.
</p>
  <p>     It's decorated in white, silver, and blue, made to look up like a winter wonderland. This is the first time that they've had snow in Beacon Hills so it's really no surprise. Even the lights that flash aren't obnoxious like they were last year. Crazy how much one year and a little snow can change things.
</p>
  <p>     It's a good thing that Stiles isn't a wallflower this year because he would stand out with his black suit and bright red dress shirt. Instead of heading for the buffet table like last year, he heads for the table where his boyfriend is waiting. His adult, super sexy werewolf boyfriend whose ass looks amazing in this black tux. There haven't been many perks to Scott becoming a werewolf but Derek Hale is definitely one of them.
</p>
  <p>     He taps Derek's shoulder and beams up at him when Derek turns around. The two of them are matching – black on red – because Lydia insisted. “Dance with me?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's face is completely expressionless, which is a little off-putting, but he nods and offers his hand. He leads Stiles onto the dance floor and holds him close. His grip is a little tight. “Why are we here again?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles frowns up at Derek. He knows that Derek was reluctant to go but he was hoping that maybe Derek would loosen up a little. To be honest being gay and couple-y out here in public is probably a bad idea but Stiles just wanted to go to one dance with Derek where they weren't stalking each other or something else. He really just wants to have a good time dancing with his boyfriend. “Because the entire pack is here and we can't just leave them?” Using the pack may be a low blow but Stiles can't take it back now.
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head. He looks on edge. “The pack isn't even here, Stiles. They've been clearing out since it started. Kira and Malia didn't even come.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles turns away from Derek and scans the crowd, hoping to catch a familiar face. But the more he looks the more he realizes that Derek is right. None of the pack is here. He turns back to Derek, frowning, worried now. “Is there some supernatural freakiness going on? Are we in danger?” It's been long past due, honestly, it seems like a disaster strikes them every month.
</p>
  <p>     “Not danger. It's just...uncomfortable here. For us werewolves.” Derek looks a mix of ashamed and irritated.
</p>
  <p>     At first he thinks of mountain ash or wolfsbane. Then Stiles realizes that it's a lot more simple than that. It's loud here. So loud that Stiles can feel the bass in his chest and vibrating his bones. There are people everywhere, people who aren't pack and they're all talking and moving and making noise. Not to mention, it's a room full of teenagers so their hormones are probably extremely thick. That isn't even taking into account the perfumes and colognes that they're no doubt – hopefully – all wearing. It's probably a lot for a werewolf's senses and even though they've been to clubs and parties before it was never for fun. There were always supernatural reasons to crash parties.
</p>
  <p>     “Oh shit. Oh my god I'm so dumb. I didn't even think about it. Shit. I'm sorry. Sorry, I just. Do you wanna get out of here?” Stiles could kick himself. He's so dumb, didn't think this through at all. Why would Derek enjoy a place like this? He tugs on Derek's sleeve, already looking for the exit.
</p>
  <p>     To his surprise, Derek shakes his head. “No. It's okay. You deserve to be able to do things like this.” His feet are firmly planted.
</p>
  <p>     “But I don't want to do it if you hate it.”
</p>
  <p>     “I don't hate it.”
</p>
  <p>     He raises his arms, gesturing to everything at once. “Of course you do! You hate crowds and loud noises and being indoors.” Stiles is feeling worse the longer they're there. He really just wants to leave and forget the night even happened.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sighs as he pulls Stiles close. With his mouth by Stiles' ear he confesses, “I love you, but I didn't agree to come just for you.” Derek pulls back and puts a finger to Stiles' lips to shut him up before he can say anything. “When I was a kid in high school, I didn't ever go to one of these things. To a dance. I was with...and she thought they were stupid. Then my family...” He trails off but what he's saying is clear. He regrets missing out. Or wants to find out if he does. And now that he's in a better place mentally and with an underage boyfriend, now is the time to do this.
</p>
  <p>     So they won't leave but they can't just stay here. Stiles nods slowly, to show that he understands. It's just a stupid dance but they both deserve to try it out at least once under good circumstances. He spots the door leading from the gym into the hallway. It should be quieter there and hopefully they'll be the only ones in it. He pulls Derek by the wrist through the crowd, making a beeline for the door.
</p>
  <p>     “I thought we weren't leaving?”
</p>
  <p>     “We aren't.” Once they get through the bodies it's not all that bad. Stiles pushes open the door to the hallway and pulls Derek into the darkness. When the door finally eases shut, it's much quieter.
</p>
  <p>     Derek poses the question again, “I thought we weren't leaving?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs. “We aren't leaving, Derek. We're technically still in the same building. It's just that this part of the building is less offensive to your werewolf sensitivities.”
</p>
  <p>     “Werewolf sensitivities?” Derek deadpans.
</p>
  <p>     Stile shrugs. He pulls Derek close. “Shut up and dance with me.” His hands find Derek's shoulder and hand, fitting his hands comfortably against them. Stiles finds that in the darkness with Derek some of his anxiety melts away. Even with his human ears he can hear the music from the gym so they aren't dancing to nothing. And it's just...so nice being together.
</p>
  <p>     They slow dance with their eyes closed, bodies pressed close. It doesn't even match the thumping bass of the music playing but it's perfect. Derek's cheek is pressed against Stiles' hair and Stiles' head is tucked beneath his chin. It's perfect. For a moment, everything is perfect. “I love you. Thank you.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Decorating The Tree</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek helps the Stilinskis decorate their Christmas tree.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one was definitely inspired by the ugly fucking cheap ornaments they sell at Michaels every Christmas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>There have been a lot of times that Derek has felt awkward in the Stilinski household though over the past few years, the feeling has diminished to almost nothing. Tonight is not one of those nights where it feels like he's at home. Derek feels like an intruder; even though he was invited to come and decorate the tree with them. By both of them. Multiple times.
</p>
  <p>     The Stilinski's don't decorate too much for the holidays. A string of lights that's been up since Stiles was two – somehow they still work but Derek is convinced it's a fire hazard – and a Christmas tree. Apparently there used to be more decorations but after the death of Claudia Stilinski, neither of the guys wanted to do anymore than set up the tree and plug in the old lights.
</p>
  <p>     Now he's in their living room facing a bare artificial tree. There are two boxes of ornaments and a tangled string of lights. Derek is working on untangling the lights. It's a slow process, one hindered by his own curiosity.
</p>
  <p>     The Stilinski men keep swapping stories about the ornaments. Derek can't tell if it's a tradition or if it's for his benefit.
</p>
  <p>     “When I was three, my parents took me to a department store and I saw this ugly ornament and just <i>had</i> to have it. I cried until they bought it for me.” Stiles smiles fondly as he holds up an ugly pink unicorn ornament. It's a real nightmare; more of a vaguely unicorn-shaped pink blob.
</p>
  <p>     Derek cringes at it before he realizes that may not be considered polite. “It's, um - ”
</p>
  <p>     “Ugly as sin.” The Sheriff cuts in before Derek can say it out loud. He shakes his head at the pink unicorn but there's a certain fondness there in his eyes. He's sitting on the couch with a box of ornaments by his side.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is on the floor with another box. He reaches over to hang the unicorn on the tree. They're hanging the ornaments up without having the lights on first. It seems strange. Then again, apparently this entire family is strange. Stiles sure is. In a good way though. “I have great taste in all things.”
</p>
  <p>     The Sheriff glances at Derek but doesn't say anything else on the subject. Instead he pulls out another ornament. This one is a small building with a year in tiny letters on a plaque on the bottom. “This was the year your mother and I took that scenic train ride. It was hot as hell that year and at the end the gift shop was out of train ornaments so we got one of the building instead.” He hands it to Stiles to put on the tree.
</p>
  <p>     Derek glances down at his tangled string of lights. He makes some small headway with the lights. It's a good thing he doesn't have anything more demanding to do with his time. The Baby Betas – as Stiles calls them – are back at the loft doing who knows what to it but they were all suspiciously thrilled when Derek said that he was going out. They practically shoved him out the door.
</p>
  <p>     “Look at this one!” Stiles holds up a small cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows and a face on the side of the cup. This one is dated too. “What's the story behind it?”
</p>
  <p>     The Sheriff sighs. “Your mother bought that one to rub in my face the year I burnt the hot cocoa. I'd decided I was going to make traditional hot cocoa on the stove top. Then I got distracted with something else and forgot about it. By the time I remembered it was nothing but a black spot in the pan. Completely ruined that pan. We had to throw it away. Your mother never let me live that down.”
</p>
  <p>     They both laugh but their eyes are sad. It seems that most of their ornaments have something to do with Claudia. Actually it feels like a lot of the things they do this month are because of Claudia.
</p>
  <p>     Derek ducks his head to work on his lights. He still feels like an intruder. Worse, this whole thing is making him miss his family. They used to trim the tree and put up lights. There would be garland made of real pine and decorated with pine cones and the small red berries they found in the forest. It had been good and Derek didn't even properly appreciate it until the next Christmas when he and Laura were faced with the fact that they no longer had a family to decorate with or a home to decorate.
</p>
  <p>     Derek finally makes some headway untangling the lights. There's only about a foot left to go. He tunes out the Stilinskis for a moment to concentrate. When he's done he holds it up with a triumphant smile.
</p>
  <p>     The Sheriff notices before Stiles does. “Good work, Derek. Let's get the lights up now.” He goes to get up from his chair.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is on his feet in a second, putting his hand over his father's chest. “Oh no. You are not doing this. Just sit your butt right there and let us young things take care of the lights.” The Sheriff hasn't been in very good health this year. It's actually a little amazing that he's still the sheriff considering how blatantly obvious it is that he isn't feeling well. Maybe old age is catching up to him.
</p>
  <p>     The Sheriff squints up at his son. “Are you calling me old?”
</p>
  <p>     “Derek is twenty-five and I'm seventeen. How old are you again?” It's a trick question.
</p>
  <p>     One that the Sheriff isn't going to answer. He stays put in his seat, lips pressed tight but not arguing anymore. That's a sign that he really isn't feeling well.
</p>
  <p>     Derek can smell the sickness on him but he doesn't know what's wrong or if his advice to go to the doctor would be appreciated. Instead of butting in, he gets to his feet and takes one end of the lights.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles stares at his father for a second longer. Then he joins Derek by the Christmas tree.
</p>
  <p>     Together they struggle to wrap the lights around it without dropping any of the ornaments. It involves a lot of having Derek's face smooshed into the prickly branches of the tree.
</p>
  <p>     When they're done, Stiles has thin pink lines on his face and hands from the tree pressing into his skin. He smiles at their work then hip checks Derek.
</p>
  <p>     The tree is looking surprisingly good considering they did everything backwards. Derek feels a small bit of pride in how good it looks, in knowing that he helped with this. And he's quietly happy that they've decided to include him in the family traditions. “It looks good.”
</p>
  <p>     “Almost.” Stiles smiles before tearing off upstairs. His feet pound against the stairs then the floorboards above their heads.
</p>
  <p>     Derek looks over at the Sheriff but he's only smiling and shaking his head. He narrows his eyes but senses that he isn't going to get any answers until Stiles comes back down.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is cradling something in his hands when he comes back down the stairs. His face is pink and there's a nervous energy radiating off of him. “So, um, this is for you. I mean, for you to put on our tree. Um.” He holds out the object he was hiding.
</p>
  <p>     It's a small black wolf figurine. There's a hook in it's back with a string through it so that it can be hung on the tree. The sculpting is beautiful, with lots of details in the fur and even paw pads. The wolf's eyes are red.
</p>
  <p>     Derek stares between the ornament and Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     When he doesn't immediately take it, Stiles' scent turns sour with anxiety. He shuffles his feet, cheeks turning pinker by the second. “I, um, you don't have to if you don't want to but, uh, we thought that, or I thought that maybe you'd like to have your own ornament for our tree. I mean, it's only for family and I think that even though we're in different packs that – and I know we're boyfriends but there's no reason that can't mean family so – oh my god, Derek just take it before I die.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek snaps back into action. He carefully takes the ornament and faces the tree. Somehow being included in <i>family traditions</i> feels more binding than anything else so far. Sex is one thing, even running in the pack is one thing. But family traditions are another entirely. They're much more personal. Gingerly he places the ornament on the tree. The wolf doesn't particularly stand out but it lends something to the tree. The tree looks better with the wolf.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes Derek's hand and leans against him, fitting perfectly under Derek's arm. His scent is clean and sweet with contentment. He doesn't say anything but he lets out a content sigh.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Hot Cocoa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek and Stiles share a midnight hot chocolate.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Derek wakes up to darkness and an empty bed. Even partially asleep, Derek's wolf seeks out his mate. He hears a heartbeat from the kitchen, meaning that Stiles is still in the loft. Wordlessly Derek gets out of bed, trying to ignore the coolness on his bare feet. The heat is on but it pales in comparison to a warm bed piled high with soft, thick blankets. He's wearing his boxers as he pads silently downstairs and into the kitchen.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is standing in front of the microwave. The timer is counting down, only 30 seconds left. The warm smell of sweet chocolate fills the air. Stiles is shivering in his boxers and one of Derek's t-shirts. His stance is tense in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. He grips the edges of the counter with both hands, knuckles pale and shoulders hunched. His head is bowed as he looks down at nothing. Only the light from the microwave illuminates his face, making the shadows around his eyes even darker than normal.
</p>
  <p>     Derek pads over to him and wraps his arms around his mate. He nuzzles the tattoo on Stiles' neck. He breathes in deep, both because he loves how Stiles smells and because he wants to know what's wrong. The faint scent of fear sweat clings to Stiles' skin, which indicates a nightmare. Derek doesn't say anything, just holds his mate close. If Stiles wants to talk about it then he knows that he can, but Derek won't pry.
</p>
  <p>     The microwave beeps and Stiles takes out the mug inside. He uses a candy cane spoon to stir in some cool chocolate syrup. Sometimes it seems like he has a bigger sweet tooth than Derek does. “Dad talking about hot cocoa yesterday had me craving some,” Stiles explains softly. He steps away from the counter and blows over the top of his cocoa, cooling it a little, before taking a sip.
</p>
  <p>     Now that the microwave isn't on, Derek can see that it's 3:28am. Far too early for either of them to be up. He tries not to get in Stiles way while he drinks but he refuses to let him go. His wolf is telling him to protect his mate, to keep him warm and safe. The best place for him is right here, pressed against Stiles' back.
</p>
  <p>     They move towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows and look out over the night. The loft is by the forest so they're really just looking at the dark trees covered in glistening snow. Stiles sips his hot cocoa and slowly relaxes against Derek. The more he drinks the more the tension melts out of him. When the cocoa is almost gone he tilts his head back against Derek's shoulder. “Did you want some?”
</p>
  <p>     “It's a little late to ask now, isn't it?” Derek teases, surprised to find that his voice is hoarse. Still, he takes the mug that Stiles offers and drains the rest of it. It's sweet and warm on his tongue. Derek guides Stiles to the sink so they can drop off the mug then guides him back up to bed. In bed he holds Stiles close and pulls the covers over their heads.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ice Skating</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pack goes ice skating.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>There isn't much that can seriously intimidate the alpha of the Hale pack but having his Betas laugh at him is definitely high on that list. Derek stands on the snowy shore of the lake and stares out over the ice. This is the first time that it's ever been frozen – all the way through, nonetheless – and both packs are here to ice skate. The property belongs to Lydia, of course, because it was passed down to her. And it was her idea to have a pack ice skating trip.
</p>
  <p>     Derek has never ice skated before. It's never snowed before and the temperatures have never frozen the lake before. His family never took him to a rink because for all that they talked about blending in with humans, they were very much wolves. They spent a lot of time outside running through the woods and doing things around the house. When Derek wasn't with family at the house he was at school.
</p>
  <p>     So ice skating is just one in a long list of things that Derek has never done and would rather not do in front of his pack. Something tells him that he is definitely going to make a fool of himself. He sits down on a rock and puts on the skates that Stiles mysteriously produced shortly after Lydia announced that they're all going ice skating. He laces them up then looks out on the lake.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles and Kira are already on the ice, skating circles around each other. They look like pros and with cheeks colored red with cold they look like they're having fun. The two hold hands and spin around in circles, laughing.
</p>
  <p>     Ridiculous. Derek sincerely hopes that Stiles doesn't expect him to be able to do that.
</p>
  <p>     Scott and Liam are doing something that looks like it could be couple-y if not for the amount of punching and insults being thrown around. They skate around each other, pulling each other's scarves and teasing.
</p>
  <p>     God, how did they end up with so much goddamn gay in these packs? Not that Derek is complaining since he's also gay. But how are they going to expand the packs when half of them are with someone of the same sex? As fun as it would be to have puppies running around – in the case of Aiden and Lydia maybe it would be banshee puppies? - Derek is sure that absolutely none of them are ready for parenthood.
</p>
  <p>     Erica sits down beside him, a Cheshire grin on her pretty face. “Someone smells anxious,” she all but sings the words as she leans against his arm.
</p>
  <p>     Derek lets out an annoyed growl. Only to realize that it was the wrong move because it confirmed her suspicions. “Shut up.”
</p>
  <p>     Erica throws back her head and cackles. “Good luck out there, <i>Alpha.</i>” Then she gets to her feet and skates out onto the ice with Boyd. How these kids can all skate when there's no snow in California, Derek doesn't know. Okay, so Boyd works at the ice rink which means that yes, he would know. Erica probably gets lessons from him or something.
</p>
  <p>     Derek huffs. He doesn't get up from his rock. This is not going to go well.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac gives Derek a sympathetic smile before leading Allison onto the ice. It turns out that Allison isn't all that great at skating so Isaac has to keep catching her before she falls. Despite that they both look happy together.
</p>
  <p>     Maybe it won't be so bad. At least Derek isn't the only one who can't skate. He narrows his eyes as he watches his Beta and the Hunter. Allison is picking this up really fast. Derek turns his attention to someone else.
</p>
  <p>     Aiden and Lydia are skating already too, a little ways away from the group. They're doing something that looks both complicated and beautiful. Aiden picks her up by the waist, holds over his head and skates with her. Lydia must have complete faith in his abilities. And why shouldn't she? He's a werewolf. Who is apparently good on the ice.
</p>
  <p>     Malia, Cora, and Jackson sprint past Derek and onto the frozen lake. Malia splits off from the group to go claim her girlfriend from Stiles. Cora and Jackson just keep going, skating faster and faster. They're both competitive people so it's no surprise there.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles skates over to him, a smile on his cute face. “Are you just going to brood and glare at everyone or are you going to come skate with us?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek sighs and gets to his feet. He shuffles through the snow and onto the ice. The second he steps foot on it, he knows that he is so fucked. This isn't like walking on the ice with shoes on; the only time he's ever been on the ice before.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles catches him before he falls. He doesn't say anything though Derek can practically hear his thoughts.
</p>
  <p>     They get him straightened up and try again. Derek flails his arms as he loses his balance. He manages to grip Stiles' jacket...only to lose his grip and his balance at the same time. He lands on his ass on the very hard snow. Ouch.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' nose and mouth are suddenly hidden from view by his scarf. “So have you ever skated before?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head. “Isn't it obvious?” He feels his face heating up with embarrassment. God, he feels like a loser.
</p>
  <p>     The feeling is only amplified when Ethan and Danny go skating past, arms linked, in perfect sync.
</p>
  <p>     Derek makes a disgusted noise in his throat. How are they <i>doing</i> this?
</p>
  <p>     “Did we find your weakness, Derek?” Scott and Liam skate over to him, amused looks on their faces. Liam hides halfway behind his alpha, clearly not wanting to get on Derek's bad side. Smart pup. “Well, besides Stiles.” His gaze flickers over to his best friend and he grins.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is still suspiciously silent as he helps Derek back onto his feet. He holds onto Derek with both hands, keeping him steady. His black eyes are gleaming with laughter he hasn't yet released.
</p>
  <p>     “Derek doesn't know how to skate,” Erica fills in as she and Boyd complete their circuit. She says it loud enough that even the non-werewolves can hear her.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia gives an amused chuckle.
</p>
  <p>     Cora and Jackson actually cackle out loud. What on Earth was Derek thinking when he made Jackson a werewolf? Erica too, for that matter. Horrible choices, really.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac skates backwards, holding onto Allison's hands. “Maybe you should teach him, Stiles.”
</p>
  <p>     Oh no. Derek is not going to be babied along like some pathetic human. He's a werewolf! He's an alpha! An alpha to a bunch of teenagers and his little sister and dammit he's not going to let them harass him like this. With a growl, Derek tears free from Stiles' grip.
</p>
  <p>     Derek scrambles back onto the shore. Snow gets into his gloves somehow, causing a chill to go through him. He yanks them off with his teeth then starts shrugging out of his coat. Nudity isn't an issue with the packs – not even Scott's newest members – because they've all seen this before. Though he can sense several pairs of eyes on him as he strips down to nothing but his bare skin. They all know what he's doing and honestly Derek isn't sure if it's attraction or scientific interest that has their eyes on him while he shifts.
</p>
  <p>     Things are always easier when he's in his wolf skin. It's easier to give in to his playful side. He feels like they – everyone – just don't judge him as much when he's a wolf. So if Derek wants to be goofy then he shifts into his fur coat. Now that he's on four paws and covered with a thick black coat, Derek feels a little better. Less like he's going to storm off and make his mate and pack upset.
</p>
  <p>     Derek bounds out onto the ice and lets himself slide. The ice is sharper on his paws than he thought it would be but they heal almost before they bleed. He pretends like it isn't happening.
</p>
  <p>     The packs seem to be thrilled that Derek is in his wolf form. Everyone comes closer and there's a lot more laughter. 
</p>
  <p>     “Well that's one way to do it,” Scott observes with a grin.
</p>
  <p>     “We should get him some cute little booties!” Erica shrieks as she reaches down to ruffle his fur.
</p>
  <p>     Derek nips at her ankle. Still, he feels much better as a wolf. His tail wags as he slips and slides between the skaters. He does fall a few times, feet slipping out from beneath him, but it doesn't carry quite the same shame as when he was human.
</p>
  <p>     Derek headbutts Scott then takes off running in the opposite direction.
</p>
  <p>     Scott chases after him but ends up crashing into Ethan and Danny.
</p>
  <p>     Liam had been skating after them. When he gets to the dog-pile that Scott started he trips onto them. There are groans all around.
</p>
  <p>     Derek leaps at Jackson and knocks the beta onto his ass. It's good to put his betas in their place sometimes. Then Derek bounds away, crashing between Lydia and Aiden.
</p>
  <p>     Aiden sweeps her off her feet before she falls.
</p>
  <p>     Derek lets out a pleased yip as he disrupts everyone's skating. They can laugh all they want. They're having fun together and Derek doesn't even need to smell it to know. It's in their eyes. Derek skids across the ice as he tries to change direction. He nips Malia and Kira's ankles as he speeds past them.
</p>
  <p>     Malia growls at him but it's only half hearted.
</p>
  <p>     He steals Erica's scarf from around her neck and drags it across the ice.
</p>
  <p>     Allison trips on it. “Really, Derek?” But there's a curve to her lips, she's trying not to laugh.
</p>
  <p>     Derek trots back to Stiles, chest puffed out. He sits down beside his mate and surveys the damage done. Everything looks good. He glances up at Stiles and gives a wolfish grin.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is laughing. Full-bellied, delighted laughter. That's worth the sting in his paws any day.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Mistletoe Kisses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek kiss underneath the mistletoe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>If there's one thing that Stiles should be wary about by now it's mistletoe. The plant is bad news for everyone who comes across it. Stiles has seen what happens to the people who ingest it. It's not pretty. Yet when he spots some in a tree, Stiles can't help but pause. He glances around for Derek, who was just chasing him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is ten feet away, hiding in some bushes, watching him with red eyes. He's dropped into a hunter's crouch, meaning he's getting ready to pounce. His black fur makes him almost invisible even with a snowy backdrop.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't feel any fear. Sometimes Derek scares him but now isn't one of those times. He points upwards, into the tree.
</p>
  <p>     Derek follows his gaze. After staring for a second he steps out of the bush. Even when he isn't in attack mode, Derek looks intimidating. He trots over to Stiles and sits down in front of him, muzzle pointed towards the mistletoe.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets him think about it for a minute. He once asked Derek what it was like to be a wolf and Derek had replied that it was different. He and his wolf didn't quite see things the same way. Sometimes he had to remind himself of what certain things were. So now Stiles waits patiently even though he's practically buzzing with excitement. Or, the romantic in him is. The rest of him is feeling a little anxious about being near this plant. It isn't even wolfsbane.
</p>
  <p>     Finally Derek shifts back into his human skin. He's naked, of course, but his skin is still warm when he touches Stiles to pull him close. He lowers his head to kiss Stiles. His head is tilted, the kiss deep. His lips are warm and soft.
</p>
  <p>     One day Stiles would like to see the wolf in clothes. Stiles kisses him back, warmed from his head to his toes. The romantic in him is very satisfied that they're actually kissing under actual mistletoe. He brings his arms up to wrap around Derek's neck. However, after a few moments of this he pulls away. “Are you sure we should be around this?” Stiles points again to the mistletoe. It makes him nervous to be around it.
</p>
  <p>     Derek glances up at it then shrugs. “It isn't doing any harm to us from up there.” He kisses Stiles again, until it's hard for him to breathe. He's firmer this time, kissing Stiles like he does when he wants to have sex. When he pulls away to press their foreheads together, there's a thin trail of saliva connecting their lips. “Besides, it would be nice to have one good association with mistletoe.”
</p>
  <p>     It takes a moment for Stiles to get his breath back but when he does he smiles. “I think you're secretly a romantic,” Stiles teases. He licks his lips then kisses Derek again.
</p>
  <p>     Derek bites Stiles' lip with just enough pressure to make it sting. “Fight me.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Snowball Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek have a snowball fight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles normally loves to spend a lot of time in the woods. Or, maybe loves isn't the right word. Especially not in light of the past year. But likes is a good word. Normally Stiles likes to spend a lot of time in the woods. Today is not one of those days. It's bitter cold outside, with snow drifting down lazily. To make matters worse, Stiles still hasn't gone shopping for warmer clothes. So to say that he's freezing would probably be an understatement. He can't feel his toes.
</p>
  <p>     Yet somehow Derek managed to convince Stiles to come out and play in the snow. He loves the snow. Stiles doesn't know why. He has a suspicion that it makes Derek horny or something. They're just going for a walk, patrolling the territory. Derek doesn't really need Stiles there; this is just to make Stiles feel included in the pack.
</p>
  <p>     It's been so quiet lately and sure that grates on Stiles' frayed nerves. But the truth is, Stiles is cold and bored. He's not very grateful for Derek including him in pack procedure right now. Stiles sighs, loud and dramatic.
</p>
  <p>     Derek ignores him. Of course he would. He's a space heater.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles smirks. Maybe the space heater should cool down a little. It isn't fair that Stiles is the only one suffering here. He bends down and scoops up some snow in his bare hands. The cold that stings his palms almost makes him drop it again. But he powers through the cold and rolls the snow into a ball. He's only marginally surprised that it doesn't fall apart on him. When it's ready, Stiles takes aim. “Hey Derek!” He lets it fly before he's through saying Derek's name.
</p>
  <p>     It hits Derek right in the face. The snowball explodes, covering Derek in white powder. He looks incredulous for a moment.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't wait to find out what his boyfriend is going to do. He whips around the way they came and runs for his life. Thinking of Derek's face brings on a round of sharp laughter. That was totally worth it to see the look on Derek's face! Stiles chances a look behind him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is all wolfed out in his beta form. He runs after Stiles, stooping to make snowballs.
</p>
  <p>     Oh no.
</p>
  <p>     Derek launches snowball after snowball at Stiles. All of them hit their marks. It turns out that Derek is a pro at this. He may not be good at ice skating but damn snowball fights are definitely Derek's expertise. He's relentless in his attack.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes more than one snowball to the face and the back of his head. Snow gets into his thin jacket and chills his skin. He shrieks and yells as he runs away from Derek, only managing to fire back a few snowballs. This was such a dumb idea! Now he's colder than before. “Alright! Alright! I give up!” He stops running but doesn't stop moving. He's trembling from head to toe.
</p>
  <p>     Derek bounds over at top speed. He only stops a half foot from Stiles. In a second he has his face buried in Stiles' neck. His breath is hot on Stiles' skin as he rubs his scent into Stiles' chilled flesh. His teeth graze Stiles' throat. It isn't a sexual thing – Stiles asked once – but rather a bonding thing. When he pulls away, he's grinning. “Cold?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles hugs Derek close, sliding his hands up Derek's shirt to siphon some of his body heat. His fingers actually sting from the heat. But the pain is good so Stiles just slides his hands up further. Despite himself Stiles can't help but grin. He loves it when Derek smiles. “Don't be so smug about beating a human teenager in a snowball fight.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Party/Celebration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek become Mates with a capital M.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Derek is lying in his warm bed with Stiles at his side. They're skin to skin beneath the heavy blanket, legs tangled and hands gently roaming. Derek kisses Stiles, slow and sweet as honey. The usual need to rush isn't there; neither of them have anywhere to be. No one is going to be interrupting them because Derek specifically told the pack to leave them alone unless someone was dying. Stiles had laughed when he heard that Derek had to 'send the baby betas away so that mom and dad could have some alone time.'
</p>
  <p>     That's honestly a good way of looking at it. The pack calls Stiles mom because of how caring he is and Derek as their alpha and Boyfriend of Stiles is known as dad. Boyfriends isn't a good word for what Derek feels their relationship is. His wolf thinks of Stiles has his mate. Nothing as temporary as a boyfriend. They haven't sealed the deal though. Maybe they should change that soon.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls away from the lazy kisses to look into Derek's eyes. “What's on your mind?” His voice is tired, soft. His scent is sweet and warm, his black eyes are trusting.
</p>
  <p>     Derek swallows down his nervousness. He reaches his free hand for Stiles. “What would you call our relationship?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles narrows his eyes. Some of the easiness turns into tension. He searches Derek's eyes, his face. “I'd call it really good, especially right now. But if you're looking for a title then I thought we were boyfriends. At least that's what I've been telling everyone. Wait, you wouldn't call me the alpha female would you?” Stiles pauses, reading Derek's face again. His tension increases. “You don't seem very happy about that. Is something wrong? I was joking about the alpha female thing.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek leans forward to kiss away Stiles' worries. He suspects that Stiles' low self-esteem is going to be something they'll have to work on for upcoming years. If Stiles will have Derek for years. “I don't want to be your boyfriend.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles scent changes in an instant from sweet to so bitter Derek can taste it. He pulls away, almost sitting up. “What?” His voice is high with panic. “Are you kidding me? You're not really doing the lone wolf thing on me now are you? I thought we were past this. Don't want to be my boyfriend. Oh my god.” He runs his hands through his short hair. Shock is probably the only thing keeping him in bed. “I thought we were good? I thought we were pack? I mean I know I can't ever be pack like the actual werewolves but I thought. Oh my god what are we going to tell the baby betas? This is going to split up our packs. Scott isn't going to want to be friends with my ex-boyfriend's pack.”
</p>
  <p>     “No, no, no.” Derek pulls Stiles down against him, presses in closer. He shouldn't have started it like that. “Stiles, I don't want you to be my boyfriend because I want you to be my mate.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls away again, this time only going far enough back that he can look at Derek. “What the fuck who even words things like that?” He looks very much like he wants to hit Derek but he doesn't. They don't do that anymore; even though in the end it would only hurt Stiles. “Are you kidding me, again? Why would you make it sound like you wanted to break up with me? Jesus fucking Christ. Just give me a heart attack. That was like a punch to the heart. Do you want to punch me in the balls too?” With that, Stiles flops down onto his back. “You're such an ass.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls onto his stomach to face Stiles. He nuzzles Stiles' neck, offering both an apology and reassurance. “Stiles, will you be my mate?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks at him again. This time his expression is thoughtful. His black eyes are unreadable though and his scent isn't giving him away. “You're putting a weird emphasis on the word mate,” he's talking slowly as he tries to figure it out. “Is it something more than boyfriends?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek nods.
</p>
  <p>     “Like marriage?”
</p>
  <p>     Now Derek frowns as he thinks about it. The idea of marriage has always bothered him. Maybe it's because he was born out of wedlock. Or because his uncle Peter never married either. Werewolves don't get married unless their human partners ask to, and usually that's only after they're mated. “Marriage is a concept. Mating is making that concept something tangible.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles gets it immediately. “So it's more permanent. Not something that either of us could back out of with something as easy as a divorce.” The idea doesn't seem to put him off. “Do I have to become a werewolf for it?”
</p>
  <p>     “No. You can stay human.” Derek's wolf is excited. And if he's honest, so is his human half. Derek wants Stiles to be his mate and he hasn't gotten a no yet. Or anything that's even remotely close to a no. Then again, he hasn't gotten anything close to a yes either. “The mating bond is strong and it can't be broken. Everyone will know that you're mine and I'm yours.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”
</p>
  <p>     “Your scent will change, subtly. It's.” Derek hesitates, unsure of how to describe it. “Everyone will be able to smell us on each other, all the time.” He brings a hand up to touch either side of Stiles' throat just under his chin.
</p>
  <p>     “You aren't telling me everything,” Stiles accuses gently.
</p>
  <p>     “I have to bite you.” Derek lets his claws slide out to prod carefully at Stiles' skin, showing him where the bite would happen.
</p>
  <p>     “I'm guessing we're talking about some serious bite here and not the kind you usually inflict on me.” Stiles' heart has been jack hammering in his chest since Derek confessed to the bite. “If you bite me I'll turn into your beta.” He says it lightly but it's clear that he really doesn't like the idea of being bitten by an alpha werewolf.
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head. “It won't turn you.” He rolls on top of Stiles, pinning him against the mattress.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets out a sigh and gives Derek a content look. Then he nuzzles his face against Derek's neck. He breathes in deep. “How does it work?”
</p>
  <p>     “We have to have sex -”
</p>
  <p>     “Of course.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek continues like he didn't hear him. “I'll knot you and leave the scars on your throat with my fangs.”
</p>
  <p>     Between them, Stiles' cock twitches. “Do I get to bite you back?” Biting seems to be something he really wants to do, if Stiles' scent is any indication. He's bitten Derek before, of course, but considering that Derek heals so quickly there have never been hickies let alone scars.
</p>
  <p>     Werewolf healing doesn't work like regular during a mating bond. Whatever wounds he receives now will scar over and show on Derek's skin forever.
</p>
  <p>     “Yes.” Derek is excited. Stiles hasn't said no, which is sort of frankly more than he expected. Then again, Derek didn't expect himself to ask after what happened with Kate. He was only sixteen when the stuff with Kate happened. At the time he had thought he was in love. Yet he'd never thought of bonding to her. Didn't imagine her carrying his pups or running with the pack. Stiles is more wolf than Kate could have ever pretended to be, even after she turned into what she did.
</p>
  <p>     “Okay. I'll do it. Or you'll do it. We'll do it together?” Stiles nods his head just a tiny bit as though to confirm it.
</p>
  <p>     The joy that seizes Derek is fierce enough to make him briefly lose control. His claws slide out and tear right through the sheets. He doesn't say anything, just kisses Stiles hard.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles kisses him back, bringing his arms up to wrap around Derek's neck. Fingers tangle in his hair and gently pull. He kisses Derek hard, letting out needy little mewls.
     A small voice in Derek's mind is telling him to take this slow but the bigger portion of him is saying to do it now. Derek may be the alpha but Stiles is the one with the control. He controls their pace and what they do and how they do it. So Derek gives in to Stiles' whims, rolling his hips to seek out the sweet friction.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand dresser. Then he's back to kissing Derek. His legs part, come up on either side of Derek's waist. The precum dripping from Stiles' cock smears against their stomachs. “Want you, now now now.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes a second to lube up his cock then pushes into Stiles. There isn't much resistance before he's got the head of his cock through. A low groan rumbles in his throat. The first few seconds of being inside of Stiles is always the best.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles rocks his hips up, pushing Derek further in. He gives a needy, impatient noise. His legs wrap tightly around Derek's waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. His butt lifts off the bed, trying to get closer to Derek, take more of his cock.
</p>
  <p>     They set a fast, somewhat sloppy pace. It's hurried and rushed and hard, both of them wanting to get to the bonding part. All of the laziness from earlier is gone, replaced with fevered need. Their kisses are sloppy, hands too rough, thrusts bone-jarring. They get there fast, in record time. Panting, skin slicked with sweat, and hearts beating fast.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles cums first, spilling all over their abdomens with a loud keen.
</p>
  <p>     Knotting is better than Derek had ever even dared hope it would be. His knot swells inside of Stiles, locking them together. He's still moving, hips jerking against Stiles as he rides out his orgasm. Derek is going to have to bite Stiles in a second but his mind is blown by just how good it feels. Stiles walls throb around him, body warm and tight. It steals Derek's breath away, makes him tremble and shake.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is never still and now is no exception. He runs his hands over Derek's sweaty hair, down his back. He traces the triskelion tattoo between Derek's shoulder blades without looking at it. His hips jerk, entire body quivering. His breath comes in deep and fast as his body adjusts to this new sensation. Derek's name is exhaled against hot skin, followed by a string of affectionate curses and babbling that Derek can't even understand.
</p>
  <p>     Derek props himself up on his elbows, looks in Stiles' black eyes, and gets lost in them. His heart constricts; full of so much <i>love</i> for this spazzy, intelligent, perfect teen.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks overwhelmed, his eyes wide and all pupils. His cheeks are pink and sweat glistens on his skin. He meets Derek's gaze for a long moment then tilts his head back. His fingers twitch on the back of Derek's neck.
</p>
  <p>     It's the clearest nonverbal invitation that Derek could ever hope for. He nuzzles the side of Stiles neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther. Then he licks a hot stripe up Stiles' throat.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles whines in response, nails scraping against Derek's skin. He doesn't say anything but his scent is giving off eagerness. His heart is pounding so loud that it's all Derek can hear.
</p>
  <p>     Derek shifts only his teeth and eyes. He turns his head to the side so that he can easily take Stiles' throat in his jaws. Then he bites down - hard, all at once – and feels his fangs puncture skin. Blood pools in his mouth, the flavor strong and metallic. He isn't sure how long to keep his teeth in for – there isn't a manual – and decides to wing it.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is shaking worse now. His knees knock against either side of Derek's waist. There's a very distinct tremor to his hands. Yet his breathing is very careful and he seems to be trying to not move.
</p>
  <p>     It's got to hurt. Derek brings one hand up to touch Stiles' hip, the only skin he can reach right now.
</p>
  <p>     A few seconds after Derek takes some of the pain – god it does hurt, like a hard pinch in his throat cutting off his air supply – Stiles makes a small noise of protest. It vibrates up Derek's fangs.
</p>
  <p>     So he stops, lets Stiles keep his pain.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles relaxes just a little.
</p>
  <p>     Derek isn't sure how long they stay like that, with his teeth embedded in Stiles' throat. However long it is, he stops when the wolf inside him tells him to. The wolf is satisfied with it's work and so Derek lets his fangs retract. Compared to his fangs, Derek's human teeth barely scrape the wounds. He laps up some of the blood on instinct, to soothe over Stiles' pain.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks drunk. He looks completely out of it, eyes unfocused on the ceiling. Then he blinks and his gaze shifts to Derek. “My turn.” His voice is rough but his eyes are sparkling.
</p>
  <p>     Obediently, Derek bares his throat for Stiles to bite.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' tentative tongue traces the shape of his jaw. He trails it down Derek's throat then dips it into the hollow there. His head tilts and then there are teeth pressing against the top of his throat, just below his jaw. Stiles teeth are blunt compared to that of a wolf but after a little pressure is applied, his teeth break through Derek's skin.
</p>
  <p>     It's not going to be a clean mark, that's for sure. Derek isn't upset by that though. In fact, his world has narrowed down to only Stiles' teeth in his throat. He grips Stiles' hips hard as he stills. It's a harder pain than the one Derek inflicted on Stiles, more pressure. His wolf says a mate with a strong bite is good. Derek can't help but hazily agree with it.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't just bite; he sucks a hickey onto Derek's throat. It's probably the only chance he'll get to do it. His teeth stay embedded in Derek's throat for a long time until finally he pulls away with a gasp. There's blood on his lips.
</p>
  <p>     Derek very carefully licks it up. Stiles would honestly not take well to seeing Derek's blood on his own mouth. The swell of his knot has gone down enough that he can pull out of Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Both of them groan.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles curls up on his side facing away from Derek and yawns.
</p>
  <p>     Derek has seen Stiles exhausted and boneless, has seen him with the content smile on his face. He's seen the way Stiles' lashes flutter and heard his heartbeat slow to a normal pace. But this right now takes the cake as to how content Derek has ever seen Stiles. His mate is practically glowing even though he's curled on his side. The sweetness of his scent is less like baked goods and more like flowers, a sign that he's happy (as opposed to horny). Stiles is literally humming as he gingerly touches the marks on his throat. There's a smile on his face even when he hisses in a breath.
</p>
  <p>     In this position Derek can only see one of his mating bonds but it still sends a thrill of excitement and possessiveness through him. Stiles is <i>his</i>. And the ache on his own throat tells him that he's Stiles. Officially, for the rest of their lives. It's enough to make him a little breathless. Derek crowds in on Stiles to place kisses on his shoulder and bicep.
</p>
  <p>     It's only a short while later that Stiles mumbles, “We have to tell the packs.” Excitement spices his scent. He <i>wants</i> everyone to know. “Hand me my phone?”
</p>
  <p>     It takes a moment of searching before Derek finds it still in Stiles' jeans pocket. He hands the slim device to Stiles and curls up against his mate again. He closes his eyes and breathes in their combined scents. His wolf wants to howl with joy. Stiles is <i>his.</i>
</p>
  <p>     “They're going to come over in a while.” Stiles drops the phone onto the floor. He rolls over to face Derek, letting out a small groan as he does. His black eyes are half-lidded and his lips are swollen. “Was the knotting only a one time thing?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek lets out a huff of laughter. “No. I'll knot you as much as you want.” He's especially pleased that Stiles enjoyed his knot. That's always a good sign.
</p>
  <p>     “I didn't even know your dick could do that.”
</p>
  <p>     “It's for mates only.”
</p>
  <p>     “So you control it?” Stiles' eyes slide closed.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hesitates, thinking about his wording. “Not anymore. Once a werewolf decides to do the mating bond, his knot just kind of...forms. After the first time it's a regular thing.” Knots are a normal part of werewolf culture but Derek was so young back then that he hadn't had the Mating Bond talk and now he can't for the life of him remember what else he overheard when he was a kid. It's probably better to leave that bit out.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles makes a thoughtful noise in his throat. “Why do you even have one?”
</p>
  <p>     A blush warms Derek from his ears to his throat. “It's optimal for producing puppies.”
</p>
  <p>     At this Stiles opens his eyes to look into Derek's. There's a furrow between his eyebrows. “Is that something you want? Because honestly, the amount of magic involved in getting a male pregnant would be astronomical. We'd probably have to kill a lot of things, including the nemeton. And I don't know about you but I'm kind of tired of killing things.” He says it so casually but there's a sudden tension to his shoulders.
</p>
  <p>     Derek can't tell if it's the idea of being pregnant or the idea of killing more people that's upsetting Stiles. Either way, Derek isn't intending for either of those things to happen. “I'd love to have pups around but I'll leave that to my betas.” He thinks of Scott's pack, “And Scott's betas.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nods and the tension leaves again. “Good idea. So should we tell them that we're expecting them to get pregnant now that we're mated?” He grins to show that he's teasing.
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes. “I'm not exactly rooting for teen pregnancy, no matter how much I want to see puppies running around.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles grins. “I bet you're a big softy with puppies.” This is said like it's the best statement he's ever uttered. He leans forward to rub his nose against Derek's nose.
</p>
  <p>     Derek just shrugs. He gets up and grabs Stiles clothes from off the floor. “Everyone is here.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles just groans. “Maybe I should pretend to be pregnant and just lay here in bed being showered in affection.”
</p>
  <p>     Yup, definitely just mated a teenager. Derek rolls his eyes; again. “They'd be able to smell pregnancy.” He pulls his own clothes on even though he just wants to roll around in the bed with Stiles. It's annoying that he can't but this is an important thing for the packs to know and it's a good chance to show off Stiles. Even though the packs already know him. And call him pack mom. Jesus Christ. Derek waits until Stiles has pulled on his clothes before opening the door.
</p>
  <p>     The hallway is crowded and everyone is holding presents. Most of them are in bags but some – Lydia – have theirs wrapped. The chatting immediately stops and almost the entire pack's noses flare as they take in his new scent.
</p>
  <p>     Cora is the one who pushes through first. “My big brother is finally a man!” She throws her arms around him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sighs. “Cora, you and Jackson aren't even mated yet.” He wraps his arms around her waist.
</p>
  <p>     When she lets go, Jackson shoves a bag at Derek. “For you and your mate. Wherever he is.” He wrinkles his nose as he steps into the loft but wisely keeps his mouth shut.
</p>
  <p>     The packs hand off their gifts to Derek then go inside to say hello to Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is out of bed and thrilled with the attention. He doesn't quite seem to understand why none of the wolves are touching him but he rolls with it.
</p>
  <p>     The packs are excited and it bounces off them like moonlight off a mirror. The more excited they are, the more excited they get. Not one of them brings up being surprised about Derek and Stiles' choice to become mates. There are no questions of what it means. Everyone is just talking about how excited they are for them, about things that are relevant in their lives. If the werewolves weren't so excited it would be a chill meeting.
</p>
  <p>     Derek comes in and herds Stiles to the couch. Together they open presents. It's mostly things that they individually like but there's also couple stuff and household stuff. There is a lot of food, enough to fill their entire refrigerator and cupboards.
</p>
  <p>     At one point Stiles leans over to whisper, “Why is there so much food?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek answers in a low voice. “They bought it on instinct. Normally the gifts would be things good to have around during pregnancy.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs but there's a flush to his cheeks and a thoughtful look in his eye.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Wrapping Presents</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek wraps Christmas presents.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>“I'll be back in a few hours, okay?” Stiles reaches up on his tiptoes to kiss Derek.
</p>
  <p>     His sweet flower and amber scent washes over Derek. It makes him want to pull Stiles back into the loft, back into bed. But he relents, knowing that he can't keep Stiles here forever. That isn't the type of mate that Derek wants to be. Instead he kisses Stiles until it's hard to breathe. With a smile he steps back into the loft.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is grinning as he and Isaac walk down the hallway towards the stairs.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac bumps his shoulder against Stiles'. “You two are so cute it's disgusting.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes at the two of them even though he's pleased that his mate and his pack get along. Even though he knew that they got along well before, it's good to know that they're still fond of Stiles. Isaac and Erica in particular worried him due to their dependency and possessiveness.
</p>
  <p>     He goes back into the loft and closes the door. Once he's positive that they're gone, Derek goes to Peter's room and gets into his closet. It's the only safe place in the entire loft to hide things from the pack. None of them will enter Peter's room, not even Stiles who can't smell Peter's scent all over everything. Derek grabs the Star Wars wrapping paper and carefully balances the presents he got for the pack.
</p>
  <p>     All of it is carried out to the main room – Derek doesn't like being in Peter's room much either – and sets it all on the floor. Now that he's here, the task seems a little daunting. He hasn't wrapped presents for anyone since he was a child. If memory serves right, Derek is not very good at this. He sighs and sits down on the floor. It can't be that hard.
</p>
  <p>     After a few false tries, Derek finds that it is in fact that hard. His presents look lumpy and misshapen. There's way too much tape on them. To make matters worse, they just don't look good. Derek frowns down at them. Then he rips all of the paper off and tosses it out of the way.
</p>
  <p>     He tries again, wrapping all six gifts with the special Star Wars wrapping paper. His pack and his mate love Star Wars. The results are the same. Derek lets out a frustrated sigh. In reality, he could have used bags. They have Star Wars themed bags. But finding bags under the tree isn't nearly as exciting as finding wrapped presents under the tree.
</p>
  <p>     Not that Derek has a tree yet.
</p>
  <p>     He glances over at the empty corner he would put a tree if he had one. Not that he's planning on getting one. It's not that he can't afford it but Derek just doesn't want to do Christmas in his loft. Christmas reminds him of his family. It's been years but Derek still isn't ready to think about that. Or think about how this is going to be his second year without Laura.
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head to clear his mind. He tries a third time to wrap the six presents. Tape gets stuck in his hair and he manages to cut his finger with the knife he's using to cut the paper. The blood that gets on the wrapping paper makes it even more unappealing. He groans as he pulls the wrapping paper off of the presents; again. “What happened to third times the charm?” He asks no one in particular.
</p>
  <p>     Too bad he can't just glare the wrapping paper into submission.
</p>
  <p>     Derek leans against the couch and looks up at the ceiling. He's used up the entire first roll of wrapping paper. There's only one more left. “Okay, Hale, what would Stiles do?” The answer doesn't come immediately, which is sort of annoying. Derek wracks his brain but he's never seen Stiles during Christmas and birthdays aren't actually big deals within the packs except for Lydia's.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia. What would she do? Wrap it perfectly. She was probably born knowing how to do everything perfectly. It's usually useful but now it's annoying.
</p>
  <p>     Derek can't ask her to wrap his presents for him and his pride won't let him ask her for help. He rolls his head to the side and spots Stiles' laptop charging by the wall. While he has a problem with asking for help in person, he has no problem doing a google search on someone else's laptop. Derek pulls the laptop close, opens it, and types in Stiles' password:
</p>
  <p>     SOURFOXLOVE4EVER
</p>
  <p>     And Derek thought that Scott using 'Allison' as his username and password for everything was ridiculous. At least Stiles was a little smarter about it.
</p>
  <p>     He clicks the Firefox button – really, Stiles – then types in his search. Derek clicks on the first video that pops up. Some skinny blonde white girl shows up on screen and proceeds to tell him how to wrap the perfect present no matter what the shape. She makes it look deceptively easy.
</p>
  <p>     Derek has to start over one time before he's satisfied with how the presents look. They aren't exactly perfect like the ones the girl in the video did but they do look much better. Derek checks the time, surprised to find that it's been an hour and a half already. He quickly hides the presents back in Peter's closet along with what's left of the wrapping paper. The wasted paper is buried in the bottom of the trashcan.
</p>
  <p>     Just when he's finished hiding the wrapping paper, the door to the loft opens. Stiles and Isaac step inside with shopping bags. Stiles sets down the groceries on the counter before walking over to Derek and kissing him on the cheek. “Did you miss me?”
</p>
  <p>     “Well it was definitely quieter without you.” Derek waits a heartbeat before winking. “Always miss you.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Wearing Ugly Sweaters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek attend an ugly sweater party.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>To be perfectly honest, Stiles didn't think that he would be able to convince Derek to wear the ugly sweater. Scott isn't even part of Derek's pack – technically they are still two packs though it rarely feels like it – and though Mrs. McCall has helped them more than once, Derek isn't overly close with her. So Derek had every reason to say no to the ugly sweater party that Mrs. McCall is hosting this year.
</p>
  <p>     Yet here he is in an ugly knitted green sweater with a black wolf wearing a Santa hat on it. As if anyone could forget that Derek is a werewolf who actually turns into a wolf. He's holding a glass of spiced apple cider. It's nonalcoholic for both humans and werewolves so everyone is stone cold sober. And frankly, Derek looks like he would rather be anywhere else.
</p>
  <p>     His betas are crowding him, all drinking and laughing and talking. Except for Boyd, who employs silence more often than not. Erica pokes the wolf on Derek's chest. “Aww, it even has your eyes.” The little wolf howls and Erica laughs even harder.
</p>
  <p>     Imagine if they knew about the ornament Stiles made. Yes, made. He'd found the wolf at a thrift store then set the hook in it's back and painted over it's gray coat and yellow eyes. Derek doesn't need to know that. Only his dad knows and Stiles has his word that he'll take that secret to the grave. So Stiles turns away from his mate and refills his cider glass.
</p>
  <p>     Liam stands beside him, practically shoveling food into his mouth. He's a growing werewolf so it only makes sense that he has a huge appetite. However, at the rate he's going, Stiles is starting to worry that Mrs. McCall didn't make enough food this year. “He looks like he's getting teeth pulled.” Liam jerks his chin back towards Derek. He picks up something that looks like a sandwich, sniffs it, then shrugs and pops it into his mouth.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't turn back to look at Derek. Instead he surveys the buffet table. He picks out a small chocolate ball and pops it into his mouth. When he bites it, gingerbread flavored cream fills his mouth. Oh, that's good. He's going to have to get the recipe for that. “Derek will live. Try this.” He shoves one of the chocolate things at Liam.
</p>
  <p>     He hears Isaac and Erica laughing loudly about something. And, do his ears deceive him? Is that Boyd laughing too? Oh boy. The Baby Betas seem to be giving Derek a hard time. It's good for him, though. They'll keep him from getting too big for his britches. And Stiles strays away from that thought before the entire room can smell his arousal at thinking of what exactly is in Derek's britches.
</p>
  <p>     Scott nudges Liam out of the way with a slight growl. He picks out some chicken breast covered with cheese and mushrooms. “I think he's going to break Erica's arm again if she keeps poking him like that.”
</p>
  <p>     “The howling is annoying,” Malia agrees, crowding in on Stiles' other side. She has a plate that's already piled high with food. Malia has a thing about food after having been a coyote for eight years.
</p>
  <p>     “I think it's cute,” Stiles pouts. Someone has to defend the honor of the ugly sweater.
</p>
  <p>     “He looks very cuddly in it,” Kira agrees. She forks a piece of Malia's chicken then eats it. Anyone else would have been at the very least growled at. Kira has special privileges with the werecoyote.
</p>
  <p>     Almost everyone at the table snorts. It's not that Kira is wrong, it's just that no one would admit that in Derek's hearing range.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles shakes his head, smiling down at the buffet.
</p>
  <p>     “Oh come on, Derek!” Isaac is whining loud enough to get Stiles' attention. “We didn't mean anything by it.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles whips around to see a wolf where his mate was standing a moment ago.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is still wearing the sweater.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles crosses the room to his wolf. He runs his hand through the soft fur on Derek's head and fondles his ears.
</p>
  <p>     Let it be known that Christmas miracles do happen. Hallelujah. Amen. Praise the lord. Thank you Santa.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is trying really hard not to make a big deal out of this because if he does then Derek might be scared off. He's flighty like that. But he's absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. Of course he'd love to have Derek the Human at the party with him but he also adores Derek the Wolf. Especially when said wolf is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Which is more or less exactly what Stiles had wished for a few days ago.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles has never in his life seen anything more perfect than a big grumpy black wolf wearing a sweater with a smaller knitted grumpy wolf on the front. The fact that this is his big grumpy wolf wearing the sweater just makes it even better. Because now Stiles can drop to his knees and wrap his arms around Derek's strong shoulders. He nuzzles his face against the fur of Derek's neck. “You're such a sourwolf.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's only response is to sigh. His breath still smells like warm apple cider.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs because what else is he supposed to do? Derek is so grumpy. It used to be annoying – when they first met – but now it's endearing. Stiles loves his sourwolf. He pulls away and goes to refill his drink.
</p>
  <p>     Still, Derek can't just turn into a wolf to avoid every potential embarrassing thing that's happening to him. The packs enjoy Derek as a human and a wolf both but Stiles can see this turning into a problem.
</p>
  <p>     He turns around to view his mate.
</p>
  <p>     The three Baby Betas are sitting on the couch. Derek is stretched out on top of them, letting them pet his fur. He has the air of a tired old dog amusing his puppies.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles smiles. He pops a few more sweets into his mouth and washes them down with cider. Then he plops down into an armchair as close to the couch as he can get. He doesn't call Derek over – because dog jokes are degrading even when his mate is literally a wolf – but patiently waits for Derek to come on his own.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't have to wait long.
</p>
  <p>     Derek jumps down – much to his Baby Beta's unhappiness – trots over to Stiles and squeezes himself onto the arm chair with Stiles. He is definitely not a lapdog but he refuses to be anywhere but on top of Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's body and hugs him again. He breathes in the scents of wolf musk and autumn leaves. It's comforting to have Derek so close. When he speaks, Stiles keeps his voice low and soft so that only Derek can hear. “You're lucky that you look so cute as a wolf in that sweater because we're going to have a serious chat about you doing the wolf thing when you're embarrassed.” He pauses then nuzzles Derek's neck. “Also when we get home I'm going to fuck you in that sweater.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Holding Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Sheriff is in the hospital. Stiles and Derek wait for news.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"But Robin!" You say, "I thought this was fluffmas! What is this angst doing in my fluff?!" </p>
<p>That's because it was a series of one shots before I decided they could all be one more or less cohesive story. And for some reason, this was all I could think of at the time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles bounces his foot restlessly. He doesn't want to be sitting down right now but after bumping into two nurses and a wall, Mrs. McCall made him sit in one of the uncomfortable chairs. His teeth work at the sleeve of his jacket, chewing on the material even though it doesn't taste very good. He needs something to do with his mouth; with his entire self, really. There's so much tension in his back that it's starting to ache.

</p>
  <p>     His eyes follow every nurse, ears straining to hear what's being said. Stiles needs news, needs to know that his dad is okay.
</p>
  <p>     All Mrs. McCall told him was that it looks like a stroke. She had said that his dad had recognized the signs and called the hospital. An ambulance had been sent – and Stiles feels literally sick when he thinks about the bill they're going to get for that – and the Sheriff was picked up. By the time they'd arrived, his dad had been unable to talk.
</p>
  <p>     Guilt plagues Stiles, clinging to him like tar. He should have been paying closer attention to his dad's diet. Should have made sure he was being healthy. Since he and Derek started dating, Stiles has been spending more time with him and the packs. After their mating? Well, Stiles has only been home once. He hasn't even seen his father in eight days. This is his fault. He should have been there to take care of his dad.
</p>
  <p>     His dad is all he has left.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles should have taken care of him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek gets up from his seat beside Stiles. He gently but forcefully takes both of Stiles hands. He gets down on his knees in front of Stiles. His hazel eyes are soft and full of concern. “John is alive. I can hear his heart beating.” That's a small relief. Until Derek continues, “If you wanted me to, I could give him the bite. It would prolong his life for a while.”
</p>
  <p>     For a second, Stiles brain short circuits. Then he processes what Derek just said. Anger floods his system, boiling in his veins. Stiles tries to yank his hands away. “Are you kidding me?! Who would ever want something like <i>that?</i>” He doesn't even try to keep the venom from his voice.
</p>
  <p>     Hurt crosses Derek's face but he doesn't let go of Stiles' hands.
</p>
  <p>     It's probably the undisguised hurt on Derek's face that makes Stiles finally burst into tears. He doesn't cry often – only in life or death situations and sometimes not even then and usually not more than a few tears – but this is ugly crying. It's all of his fear and regret and anger reduced to tears and a flushed face and even gasps for air. “I'm sorry.” It's a lame apology but it's all that Stiles can offer up right now.
</p>
  <p>     Things were going so well. For Beacon Hills, for the packs, for them. Maybe the scales are tipping again, already. Stiles hates to think about it. He wanted more time to enjoy the peace. Wanted to be able to actually enjoy it. And now his dad could be dying and Derek probably hates him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek doesn't say anything while Stiles cries; just stays on his knees and keeps a tight hold of Stiles' hands. When Stiles is finally down to hiccups and damp cheeks, Derek squeezes his hands. “It was only a suggestion. I know how much you care about your dad.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nods and wipes his face on his jacket shoulders the best he can. “I just can't. I don't want that for him.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek nods. “It's okay.” He lets go of Stiles hands to sit down in his seat. Derek slings one arm around Stiles shoulders then holds Stiles hand with his free one.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles settles against Derek's side. Worry is making him sick but he's glad to have some support.
</p>
  <p>     All of a sudden Derek goes still, the way he does when he's concentrating on something.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles holds his breath.
</p>
  <p>     Derek relaxes with a smile. “He's going to be alright, Stiles. His condition is stable.”
</p>
  <p>     Before Stiles can reply, Mrs. McCall comes out of his father's room. She looks significantly less stressed out than she did when they first arrived at the hospital. “There's good news, Stiles. The Sheriff's condition is stable and there's a good chance that he'll be back to normal.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets out the breath he was holding. He stands up to pull Mrs. McCall into a hug. “Thank you.”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now you know I called it "the scales."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Drinking Excessively</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I spilled some light angst into your fluff. Sorry. Apparently this was a problem even in 2016. Btw, this specific chapter was inspired by an interview in which Tyler said that Dylan was at his apartment and drank his wine while he was out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>When Derek gets home he pauses in the doorway to smell the air. There's a faint trace of wolfsbane. He frowns as he enters the loft and sets down the takeout he got. It's only been half an hour at most since he left but something is clearly not right.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is slouched on the couch, limbs loose and eyes downcast. He's staring at his palms, which are face up in his lap. Not so much as a single muscle twitches. It's so uncharacteristic that Derek squints to make out the rise and fall of Stiles' chest even though he can hear his mate's heart beating. It's a deceptively steady beat.
</p>
  <p>     “Stiles?” Derek sets the takeout on the coffee table before sliding up to Stiles. “Everything okay?”
</p>
  <p>     There are tears running down Stiles' cheeks. He stares unblinkingly at his hands and doesn't respond to Derek's questions.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hasn't seen this before. He's seen a lot of Stiles behaviors over the past year that they've been together. This is new and Derek doesn't know what to do with it. He breathes through his nose, trying to get a feel for whatever Stiles is feeling. The strong and dizzying scent of wolfsbane alcohol hits his senses like a punch. He rubs his nose and decides to breathe through his mouth. “Are you drunk?” There's a slight accusation in his voice.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't react. He's practically catatonic. The tears are still rolling down his cheeks.
</p>
  <p>     The annoyance at his underage mate being drunk fades with Stiles' lack of a reaction. A drink isn't going to kill him. He's entitled to at least one, what with his dad being in the hospital. Derek is just going to have to make sure that it stays at one. There's no need for an alcoholic label to be slapped on him. He presses closer. “Stiles, Sugar Tails, tell me what's wrong.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes a breath. Maybe the first one since Derek entered the loft. “Feels like I'm dreaming.” His words are slurred.
</p>
  <p>     Derek understands. He kisses Stiles' temple. “Did you count your fingers?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles blinks and his lips twitch in a frown. “Can't see them.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes one of Stiles' hands. He separates his fingers. Starting with his pinky, Derek starts counting. “One. Two. Three. Four.” All the way to nine. He pauses, waiting and hoping that Stiles will pick it up.
</p>
  <p>     “Ten.” Stiles' voice is a whisper.
</p>
  <p>     Derek holds out his hands for inspection. “Now count mine.” He does a quick count of his own fingers before Stiles can count them, just to make sure that there are in fact ten of them. In Beacon Hills it can be hard to tell dreams from reality.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is slow to count, touching each of Derek's fingers as he does. When he gets to ten he falls silent again. “I drank your wine.”
</p>
  <p>     “I know.”
</p>
  <p>     “All of it,” Stiles clarifies. He points over to an empty bottle on the floor.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's lips press into a thin line. Wolfsbane wine is the only thing that will get a werewolf drunk and he was sort of saving that bottle. It's hard to be seriously mad at Stiles though. Although he is mildly concerned that Stiles may have poisoned himself. “Your dad is fine, Stiles. They said they think he won't suffer any ill side effects.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets his head thunk against Derek's shoulder. “It's not just dad. My nightmares are back. Not like they were when the Nogitsune had me but they're still there. I can't wake up from them. And I'm scared of the scales tipping again. Things have been too calm lately, even with what's happened to dad. I think the scales are going to tip into the bad.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek holds him. He can fight using his fangs and claws, can keep Stiles fed and satisfied in bed, can take every measure to keep him safe and happy. But eventually bad things will happen again – probably sooner rather than later – and Derek can't stop them from happening. He can only deal with what's right in front of him. So he holds Stiles and buries his face into his mate's neck. “Let's just enjoy the peace before the scales tip again.”
</p>
  <p>     Another hiccuping sob comes from Stiles. “Sometimes I wish the Nogitsune had left me more void.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek goes cold inside.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Conflicting Holiday Spirits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek talk it out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>The events of last night after Stiles drank Derek's entire bottle of wolfsbane wine are a bit of a blur. Okay, so they're a lot of a blur and Stiles doesn't really remember any of it. He does know that he was crying at one point in the night but he's not sure if that's because of getting drunk or because of his nightmares. His headache this morning is practically nonexistent and so are the feelings that drove him to drink an entire bottle of wine in the first place.
</p>
  <p>     Mrs. McCall called this morning to give Stiles an update on his dad's condition – looking good, all things considered – and tell him that the Sheriff would be in the hospital for a few more days for observation.
</p>
  <p>     So all things considered – the news about his dad and the lack of headache – Stiles decided to text the Baby Betas, asking them to bring over decorations for Derek's loft. They did bring the decorations but refused to stay to put them up. Something about Derek not liking Christmas.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't see it. He knows that Derek can be grumpy – especially when embarrassed – but he hasn't been a scrooge. Stiles has known Derek longer than the Baby Betas have so he feels like he should know this. Still, he wants to get it done as quickly as possible. As in, before Derek wakes up. That doesn't stop him from putting on some Christmas music, though it's very soft. Stiles hears the melody more than the lyrics and he's sure that when he sings along he's getting some of the lyrics wrong.
</p>
  <p>     It doesn't matter. Today is a new day. He isn't going to wallow.
</p>
  <p>     In a few hours, Stiles has decorated a huge Christmas tree and hung garland on the railings. He's placed out decorations; Santa in his sleigh with reindeer, some white wolf statues, snow globes, and snowmen, and other such things that aren't religious. The dishes in the cupboards have been carefully packed away in boxes in the store room and replaced with brand new – Stiles thinks they're dollar store dishes – sets that are Christmas themed. He's stringing lights around the borders of the ceiling in the living room when he feels eyes on his back.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles twists around on the ladder to see Derek standing there.
</p>
  <p>     Derek does not look happy. His features are arranged in a scowl and his arms are crossed. He takes in the loft in an angry silence.
</p>
  <p>     “There's coffee in the pot,” Stiles says, feeling a little nervous. How nervous Derek can make him without even saying anything is probably a testimonial to how bad their relationship is but Stiles doesn't care. He's seventeen and in love. And besides, Derek isn't going to be beating the shit out of him or smashing his face against the steering wheel of Stiles' Jeep. Anymore. So they had some issues. Stiles turns away and continues to hang up the lights.
</p>
  <p>     A minute later there's a low growl from the kitchen. “Where's my mug?” Derek comes out, holding a mug with poinsettias on it. “Where are my <i>dishes?”</i> If he looked angry before, he looks positively furious now.
</p>
  <p>     “Put it away,” Stiles replies without looking at him. He's almost done with these lights. The bite marks on his throat ache suddenly.
</p>
  <p>     “Away <i>where</i>?” Derek sips from the poinsettia mug. “It doesn't even taste the same.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't really understand why the mug thing is a big deal. He only has a few more feet of lights to hang up then he's going to swing this ladder at Derek and hope it doesn't break the mug. Okay, so not really, but it sounds good in his head. “Jesus Christ, Derek, it's just a new mug. That's the same brand and flavor of coffee that we always buy. If there's really a flavor difference then maybe you should wash the old mug a little more.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek is practically bristling at this point. There's a low growl coming from him.
</p>
  <p>     But frankly, Stiles is pissed off now. He's too pissed off to be scared because he doesn't <i>understand.</i> What's Derek's deal with some decorations and a new mug? It's not like the loft even looks lived in to begin with. They have the same blue couch and one unsteady metal chair and huge bulky table, and the small coffee table. It's boring. It doesn't match. It probably came with the loft and Derek was just too lazy to try to buy anything new. Not to mention, it's all been soaked through with water at least once so it isn't even all that great. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a fucking Grinch now? Hate Christmas? Going to go into town and steal all the kid's presents from under their trees?”
</p>
  <p>     “Don't give me that shit. You don't even decorate your own house,” Derek hisses. He's set the mug down and is now standing closer to Stiles, out of his line of sight.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles makes a frustrated noise in his throat as he fumbles with the strand of lights. “That's because my dad doesn't want to.” He manages to get the strand tangled around his wrists. Jesus. What the fuck. Anger and frustration coil hot through him, feeling as much a physical monster within as the Nogitsune had once been. “Why are you being such a bitch about it? Are Christmas decorations your kryptonite?”
</p>
  <p>     “I haven't liked Christmas since my family was murdered.” Derek's voice is deadpan. He's retreating back into his shell like he always does when he talks about his family.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles bites back his first through fifth retorts because they're things that he can't take back once he says them. They're also things that Derek shouldn't have to hear, even if they are a little true. Derek's blue eyes are – or were before he became an alpha – proof enough of how he carries around the guilt for their murders. Instead of talking he hums angrily in his throat. Restlessness overtakes him suddenly, adding a vibration he can feel in his bones.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles brings the lights up to his mouth with the intent of – well he isn't completely sure – but then he remembers that if he bites through the wires it will probably start a fire. Wouldn't <i>that</i> be ironic? Derek would probably be fine in the event of a fire but Stiles would probably die. And Stiles is not going to die because of his need for oral stimming.
</p>
  <p>     He still hasn't come up with anything to say that isn't going to leave some serious wounds on Derek so he stays silent. One foot left of lights and he can get off this ladder until Christmas is over.
</p>
  <p>     Eventually Derek breaks the silence, “I've been thinking about what you said last night.”
</p>
  <p>     That makes one of them. Stiles doesn't even remember last night. But that's wolfsbane for you. He waits for Derek to continue, knowing that sometimes he will share without prompting.
</p>
  <p>     “You were right. This month is stressful.” Derek crosses his arms. “I'm reminded that my family isn't here to celebrate with me but the packs are and we've been doing a lot of Christmas-y stuff. And it feels like there's an ax hanging over our heads, just waiting to fall when we least expect it. Spending time with you and everyone else has been great, too great, and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to fall.”
</p>
  <p>     Alright, Stiles has to admit that this sounds like something he would worry about. And he has been worrying about it, low key, like he always does when there's a lull in the action. He wasn't aware that he'd shared his misgivings this time though. “You mean the ax to fall because if all we had to worry about was a shoe we'd be pretty damn lucky.” He twists around just in time to see Derek nod. Then suddenly he's falling. Stiles barely has time to process it before he's in Derek's arms.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's expression is tight. He holds Stiles close and buries his face against Stiles' neck.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't know what prompted his change of heart, but he's damn determined to enjoy the time they have together even if the ax drops. He's definitely going to enjoy it now, while there's some peace. He nuzzles Derek and breathes in his leather and autumn and wolf scent. “We make a good team.”
</p>
  <p>     “You think so?” Derek mumbles against Stiles' skin. He hasn't put him down yet, doesn't seem like he's going to any time soon either.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles tilts Derek's chin up so that he can see the completed Christmas lights. “Yeah. We'll be able to kick the asses of any bad situation that comes our way.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Bundling Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The packs go shopping for winter clothes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>This is so long overdue that it isn't even funny. Stiles can't believe it took them over two weeks to get around to buying winter clothes. They're back in Macy's because of course they are, with both of the packs. Apparently no one else owns anything heavier than a light jacket. The amount of snow they're getting is starting to make even the werewolves uncomfortable.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles follows Derek through the men's section as the werewolf pushes the cart. Stiles keeps an eye on the packs, making sure that they're not forgetting anything because as far as he's concerned he isn't coming back here until Lydia's next birthday. He's almost positive that the employees are giving them the stink eye; for the sex or the stealing, he isn't sure. At least they haven't been asked to leave yet.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia is trying – and succeeding – to convince Aiden that the jacket he's picked out is atrocious and Not His Color. She picks out a nice charcoal number with a belt in an XXL then gets a medium for herself, beaming at Aiden. When she tries it on, it hugs her curves surprisingly well – for being men's – and she gives Aiden a satisfied smirk.
</p>
  <p>     Ethan laughs until Danny does the same thing and picks them out matching coats in a deep cranberry red. Then his face goes red as the coat but he can't say no to his boyfriend.
</p>
  <p>     Kira, Malia, and Allison are returning from the women's section, frowns on their faces. Allison doesn't really need anything – having moved from somewhere cold - but Kira and Malia definitely do. “Those things are supposed to keep me warm? I'd do better if I stayed in my fur all winter.” Malia is probably the most outraged. She scans the racks of the men's section until she finds a coat she likes then gets it in a size too big.
</p>
  <p>     Erica looks up from where she, Boyd, and Isaac are picking out fur-lined coats. “Women's clothes are horribly impractical. It's better to just stay in the men's unless you want to buy underwear.”
</p>
  <p>     “I'm going to have to argue that. Men's underwear are more comfortable.” Isaac chimes in, not looking up from where he's browsing through a selection of coats with black trim. There's a blush on his fair face despite his seeming nonchalance.
</p>
  <p>     Allison slides up to him. “I wouldn't mind trying a pair of boxers. It'll be like wearing shorts, right? Maybe they won't ride up like my panties when I'm running.”
</p>
  <p>     At that, Kira perks up. “I'd like to find some for me too. There's nothing worse than having to stop to pull your underwear out of your parts.” She shakes her head with a sigh.
</p>
  <p>     Scott and Liam are arguing over some Letterman jackets. Scott insists that they're going to stay in Beacon Hills forever and should get the home team. While Liam is arguing that they may want to move somewhere more wooded and less dangerous.
</p>
  <p>     That little conversation is enough to get Stiles' anxiety going again. He doesn't like to think of the packs splitting up. He grabs Derek's hand and raises it so that Scott and Liam can see their interlaced hands. “Hey, just mated over here. Can we not talk about moving?”
</p>
  <p>     Both of them look immediately sheepish. Then Scott sighs. “Whatever we decide to do, we're doing it as a pack.” His brow furrows. “Or packs.” They decide to wait on the team jackets.
</p>
  <p>     Derek chuckles under his breath. He leans over to nuzzle Stiles. “Pack mom strikes again.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pushes him away but he's smiling. The nickname has grown on him. He loads up the cart with several new flannels, a fur-lined vest with a hood, a few different types of jackets and coats, some snow pants, long sleeve shirts, a few different scarves, a plain black beanie and a Star Wars one shaped like R2D2's head, and thick wool socks. He also gets a pair of snow boots. Everything is doubled because “Never know when we're going to run out of tide-to-go or be impaled or lit on fire.” All of those are very real possibilities.
</p>
  <p>     Derek throws in some undershirts and thick long sleeved shirts. He buys a heavy, warm coat and another leather one. It's about time on the leather one. That thing has gone through hell and back. Stiles would have thrown it away if he thought he could get away with it. He buys a beanie – just plain black – some black leather gloves that look both sexy and intimidating, and a pair of boots. Most of his choices are various shades of black and gray. The man has no sense of style whatsoever.
</p>
  <p>     The packs get done about the same time – shockingly – and all play in the line for the register. They're easily the noisiest bunch in the department store. Stiles laughs extra hard when an old couple gives them patronizing looks. Though that may be because half of them are gay and none of them are hiding it.
</p>
  <p>     Scott slides up on Stiles' other side. “So hey, I wanted to ask you something.” He's shifting nervously on his feet, eyes sliding over periodically to Liam.
</p>
  <p>     Liam is otherwise engaged with Malia and Erica. It sounds like they're debating shampoos. That would actually explain a lot.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles leans back against Derek and offers Scott a smile. He isn't sure which one of them is his alpha now. He'll have to talk to Derek about that. “Tell pack mom all your problems, young one.” He opens his arms in invitation for Scott to step into them, knowing that he wouldn't dare with Derek right there.
</p>
  <p>     Scott takes a deep breath then just plunges into it, voice a whisper. “What's it like being mated?”
</p>
  <p>     Without thinking, Stiles looks over at Liam again. If he heard the question then he doesn't give any indication of it. Then he looks back to Scott. His best friend wants to be mated? Stiles hates to even think this but only a year ago, Scott would have wanted to mate Allison. They had really been in love – obviously they were out of it now – but Scott made a lot of bad decisions based on what his heart (dick) was telling him to do. “Ooh boy. Uh, Scott, I don't really know if it's right for you.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott tilts his head, giving Stiles that dumb puppy look. “What do you mean? You did it.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' circumstances with Derek are vastly different than Scott's are with Liam. He's more mature and all around intelligent than Scott. He mated someone older, after they had been dating for almost two years. Their relationship had been off to a rocky start but now they're solid. They worked out all their problems with each other long ago. Not to mention, Stiles isn't one of Derek's betas. He wasn't – couldn't have been – pressured into a mating through werewolf means. Stiles bites his lip as he thinks about how to handle this so that his best friend doesn't go off on him. “Things with Derek and I were different.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott still looks like a dumb puppy so Stiles elaborates. “We've been together almost two years now and have our shit worked out. You and Liam are still a new couple and you almost got in a fist fight over jackets and you're obviously not on the same page about the future.” Not that Stiles knows what his and Derek's future holds and damn he's going to have to talk about that. He glances back at Derek. “Plus, I'm not entirely sure how the werewolf thing works between alphas and betas, but, well, you're kind of his alpha, Scott. And you're two years older than him.”
</p>
  <p>     “You think I'm going to control him because I'm his alpha and we're two years apart?” Scott seems to be bristling. His eyes flash red. “You and Derek have a seven year age gap! You aren't even the same species!”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's grip on Stiles doesn't tighten but he growls low in his throat.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles can feel the vibrations more than hear the actual noise. “Neither were you and Allison.” Stiles leans forward, getting into Scott's face. He doesn't care how pissy Scott is getting, he probably won't hurt Stiles. A smug and vicious part of him whispers that Scott wouldn't be able to hurt Stiles and live. “And this isn't about me and Derek! It's about you and Liam! Stop using us as your justification for something you obviously aren't ready for!” He gives a little shrug then shrinks back into Derek, taking comfort in his closeness.
</p>
  <p>     Scott's eyes stay red for a second longer before they turn back to brown. He sighs and nods. “Are we good?” He offers a hand.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes it with a small smile. “You're the one wolfing out on me. I'm going to tell your other mother and she'll whoop your ass.”
</p>
  <p>     They move up in line and Derek pays for his entire pack's wardrobes.
</p>
  <p>     Scott's face turns red at the display of an alpha who can provide. He only buys his own things; nothing even for Liam. No one comments on it though; they all know that Derek is loaded.
</p>
  <p>     As soon as they get out of Macy's Stiles goes to change into some of his new clothes. He is not going to freeze his ass off on the way to the car. When he comes back out, everyone is in the food court sitting on silver chairs and drinking out of paper cups. He slips into the empty one beside Derek.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hands him a cup. It's hot cocoa.
</p>
  <p>     Scott's hot chocolate is almost gone. He's sitting with Liam in his lap. Malia is pressed close with Kira beside her. “So you're all coming over to my mom's for movie night, right? It's a Saturday so none of us have school.”
</p>
  <p>     Lydia is sitting beside Aiden, sipping her hot cocoa. They're both wearing their new coats. “Will your mom's house really fit all of us for a movie?”
</p>
  <p>     Scott hesitates.
</p>
  <p>     “We could go to the lake house. There's a theater in it.” Lydia takes a selfie of her and Aiden.
</p>
  <p>     Aiden reaches over to send it to himself. Not like they aren't all going to get it shared on the pack's Slack group.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' tongue burns from his hot cocoa but it's sweet so he ignores it. “We need some pack bonding time besides shopping at Macy's and kicking ass. It'll be cozier and closer for everyone if we go to Scott's.”
</p>
  <p>     “Yeah, actually, my car is almost out of gas.” Allison chimes in. “I'd rather go to Scott's this time.”
</p>
  <p>     Lydia huffs. “Fine.” She stands up, dragging Aiden with her. “We'll be over by six.” It's almost six now but it should give everyone time to drop their purchases off at home.
</p>
  <p>     Ethan and Danny follow her with waves at everyone else.
</p>
  <p>     The packs finish their hot cocoa then go their separate ways. The sun is setting when Stiles and Derek leave the mall. Their arms are full of bags from their shopping trip. Everything is stashed in the back seat. Stiles waves at Scott, Liam, Kira, and Malia as they pile into Scott's car.
</p>
  <p>     Most of the packs carpool. None of Derek's betas have cars except for Jackson and some of Scott's pack don't have transportation either. It would be nice if they had a way to all travel together. Especially when they're going to somewhere like Lydia's lake house. Which gives Stiles an idea. He opens up their group messaging chat and sends a quick message.
</p>
  <p>     <b>BlackFox: We should invest in a pack minivan
</b></p>
  <p>
    <b>     PrincessWolf34: OMG YOU REALLY ARE PACK MOM!!
</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>     IHateFreezers: I think it's a good idea. I'm tired of asking for rides.
</b>
  </p>
  <p><b>     IHateFreezers: Seconded what Erica said.</b>
</p>
  <p>     Stiles grins as he reads their messages. Erica and Isaac are so loyal.
</p>
  <p>     <b>BetterThanU100: You're just sucking up because Stiles is Derek's bitch. If you're going to have puppies bark once.
</b></p>
  <p>
    <b>     BlackFox: It could be worse. I could be Cora's bitch. (no offense Cora)
</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>     BlackFox: Also, I already have puppies, thank you very much.
</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>     PutALydOnIt: You'd still have to ask for rides, Isaac. Really, Stiles as cute as it would be, it's impractical to get a minivan for the pack. We wouldn't even all fit.
</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>     TrueAlpha: We are not getting a bus. Also Stiles, that's the momest thing you've ever said. You aren't pregnant are you?
</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>     PrincessWolf34: No one mentioned buses, Scott. LOL I'd love to see little Stiles and Derek puppies running around.
</b>
  </p>
  <p><b>     TABirch: He said it because we'd fit on a bus but not in a van, Erica.</b>
</p>
  <p>     Stiles rolls his eyes like he always does when he sees Liam's username. The kid wears the bitch title with pride. That's cool.
</p>
  <p>     <b>PutALydOnIt: Stiles isn't pregnant no matter how motherly he's been acting.</b>
</p>
  <p>     They're stopped at a red light when Derek pulls out his phone. He's obviously going through the group chat. By the time the light turns green he's caught up. “So there was a lot of mention of motherhood today.” Derek sounds like this subject is physically painful. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel and he's looking very hard out the windshield. “Are you sure you're okay without puppies?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks over at him, curious. They've never talked about this before becoming mated. About children; or puppies as the case may be. Stiles does not want to be pregnant. He can barely imagine bringing someone as young as Liam into this life of horror but an innocent child/pup? Never. He wouldn't ever do it even if the process wouldn't be bloody and drain him of more of what makes him Stiles. Not that Stiles knows for sure how to even go about puppies through magical means but he knows that it's going to involve sacrifice. Stiles has had enough taken from him; he doesn't want more gone.
</p>
  <p>     The only way to get out of this situation without making things awkward is to make a joke. So with a serious expression, he states, “Derek, we already have puppies.”
</p>
  <p>     “Excuse me?”
</p>
  <p>     “Yeah. We have Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Malia, and baby Liam.” He starts ticking betas off his fingers. He's tempted to add Scott but thinks that might be pushing it.
</p>
  <p>     Derek punches him, lightly. “Okay. Okay. We've just never talked about this and I need to know that it's okay if we don't have puppies.”
</p>
  <p>     “Yeah, I'm totally good with not having puppies or any children at all.” Stiles tilts his head as he studies Derek. He hasn't seen many examples of good werewolf parenting – or any at all really - but he thinks that this might be part of Derek's instincts. It might be a mating thing, too. The wolf in him telling him to breed and satisfy his mate with pups. Stiles wonders if this is going to be a problem.
</p>
  <p>     “Stop analyzing me.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Looking At Christmas Lights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek and Stiles go to look at Christmas lights.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Derek's hand fits snugly in Stiles', like they were made to hold hands with each other. They're bundled up in the new clothes that they bought. Stiles is significantly warmer than he has been these past two weeks. It's a nice change and why he didn't mind going for a walk through the neighborhoods at night.
</p>
  <p>     Everyone has Christmas lights up, shining in an LED rainbow of colors. The displays are beautiful and the few houses that didn't put up lights stick out like sore thumbs. Blowup figures don't seem to be as popular this year but Stiles isn't upset by the loss. He just likes looking at the lights that trim houses, trees, and yards.
</p>
  <p>     It's quiet until Derek breaks the silence. “I heard what Melissa told you about the hospital bills.” Of course he had to bring that up.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles has been trying very hard not to think about how they've accumulated yet another hospital bill on top of the ambulance bill. Apparently being Sheriff doesn't come with many insurance perks. Even after they were pardoned for the Eichen House bill, there was still Stiles' hospital bills to take into consideration and how much all of the repairs to his Jeep cost. They're behind on the mortgage, there's less food in the house than usual, and frankly Stiles shouldn't have spent as much money as he did this month. “We'll figure it out.” He tries to keep the anxiety from his voice but he knows Derek can smell it on him.
</p>
  <p>     “If you want I could pay - ”
</p>
  <p>     “No.” The idea of relying on someone else for money is so unpleasant. Stiles doesn't want this between them, either. There's nothing worse than sharing money – very large sums of money – between lovers. He doesn't know exactly what the human equivalent of a mate is but Stiles just doesn't feel comfortable taking that much from Derek. It's one thing when his mate buys him a cup of hot cocoa and some new clothes; it's another when he's paying off Stiles' dad's medical bills. “I know what you're saying and I appreciate it but no.”
</p>
  <p>     To his credit, Derek doesn't try to force it. They pause to look at a glowing pink flamingo in someone's yard. “So what are you going to do?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles tugs Derek along when he gets bored of it. “Get a job, I guess.” Stiles doesn't work. It's just a thing. He doesn't know why he doesn't work. He goes to school and his dad has never asked him to get a job. Honestly he should have done it before now. “There's plenty of places hiring for the season.”
</p>
  <p>     “You would be dead before you made enough in retail to pay off your debts.” Derek says it so matter-of-factually. He's right, though. “Maybe make an appeal to the county?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles shakes his head. “No, it wasn't work-related so they won't pay for it.” He already looked into it. They pass a house that's literally covered from roof to ground in lights. It's obnoxiously bright and makes Stiles feel like the old string of lights on his dad's house isn't good enough. “Maybe I could start a kickstarter?”
</p>
  <p>     “That's a funding website, right?” Derek pauses to snap a picture of a glowing cactus decorated like a Christmas tree.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nods.
</p>
  <p>     “I don't think going to the internet for help is a good idea. There's no payment but the deadpool list is still there. Someone could decide to hunt us for fun.” Derek looks around as though he's expecting someone to shoot them now.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nods again. His name wasn't on the deadpool but the name of his friends were. Derek's name was. “I don't know what else to do.” He stops walking to rub at his tired eyes. Lately he's been having trouble sleeping. Again? Still? Sometimes it's hard to tell.
</p>
  <p>     Derek, bless him, doesn't suggest that Stiles take his money again. He squeezes Stiles' hand and they walk in silence. Only the snow crunching beneath their boots and the occasional distant car can be heard.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets his gaze wander to the Christmas lights. It's nice looking at them, takes his mind off the problem a little bit. With his free hand he brings his coat collar up to his mouth to chew on it. The material doesn't taste very good but he doesn't care. He needs to think, to come up with a plan. Instead he ends up snorting when he spots a palm tree. Stiles nudges Derek. “Hey look at that palm tree. Remind you of anything?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek looks over, studies the palm tree for a second, then sighs. “That's really mature of you, Stiles.” There's a small upturn of his lips though.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles can't help but grin widely in response. Of course Derek is a closet pervert. All that creeping he did had to be for something. “It's not my fault no one thought about how their palm tree would look like a jizzing dick.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek snorts. “You have such a way with words.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls out his phone and snaps a picture to share in the pack chat.
</p>
  <p>     “How many lights do you think it took to make that?” Derek asks, sort of nonchalantly. He's stopped being surprised when Stiles knows some random tidbit but he rarely actually asks for those random tidbits unless they're needed. And even then, it's a question directed at a group that Stiles just happens to usually answer first.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks up at the palm tree again. The lights on the trunk are fairly close together and the stores don't sell strands that are less than fifty feet. Four strands of lights for the trunk. Another one for the fronds. “250 lights.” It took about two seconds to come up with that number. His gaze picks out the extension cord snaking across the yard and plugging into one of those solar powered outlets staked in the yard. “That cheap timer is going to make a fuse blow, though.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek laughs not unkindly. “Are you an electrician now?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek didn't mean anything by it but Stiles frowns. He doesn't say anything in response but he has a tough time keeping his tells in check. Stiles isn't an electrician but he's sure that if he tried to he would be able to do the job without any training. He isn't an electrician, and hasn't had any experience. But once there was a man who was an electrician and he was briefly possessed by an evil, void fox that sucked up everything it touched. Apparently the Nogitsune left more than just voidness inside of Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     They stop in front of the Sheriff's house and Stiles plugs in the lights. They're going to cause a fuse to blow here too, sooner rather than later. If Stiles had the money he would go out and buy a new strand of lights. The LED ones are safer and greener than these tiny little energy hogs.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Meeting Santa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Derek's pack visits the mall and meets Santa.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Being back in the mall sucks. To put it lightly. This close to Christmas, the mall is so crowded that it's hard to walk without bumping into anyone. The crowd roars and shoves and gives off too many mixed scents. The mall is playing loud Christmas music over the speakers that are placed every five feet.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't seem too enthused at being here again either. He keeps rubbing his eyes with the hand that isn't holding Derek's.
</p>
  <p>     They're with Derek's youngest three betas and Liam. Derek isn't entirely sure why Liam is there. He's Scott's beta/boyfriend and has his own pack. But he's more pleasant to be around than Jackson so Derek doesn't complain.
</p>
  <p>     Derek doesn't even know what they're doing here. He vaguely recalls Isaac jumping on his bed this morning and Erica yelling at him – and Stiles – to get up because they're going shopping. Derek wanted to kill his betas. Stiles talked him out of it and now they're here.
</p>
  <p>     Erica tries to get them to go back to Macy's.
</p>
  <p>     Derek does not want to go back to Macy's even though the dressing room still faintly smells of him and Stiles. Twice in one month is more than enough.
</p>
  <p>     Thankfully, Stiles seems to share this sentiment. “No, no more Macy's. Let's go literally anywhere other than Macy's. Who wants to visit the Lego store?”
</p>
  <p>     Boyd is actually the one who is the most excited about the Lego store. He's practically bouncing around the small store, barely avoiding running into children. He points out all of the sets that he has and the ones he wants. Then he gets to the Star Wars section.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets go of Derek's hand and saunters over. To say that they nerd out is an understatement. Stiles is, as he puts it, a slut for Star Wars.
</p>
  <p>     Derek stays just inside the door of the small store. He doesn't like being here, wants to curl up in bed with Stiles. Or go through a run through the woods.
</p>
  <p>     Erica and Isaac stay close. Isaac looks uncomfortable; probably because his father never did things like buy him Lego's. Erica looks bored though she's paying careful attention to what Boyd lingers over. “Derek.” Erica is peering at her nails.
</p>
  <p>     Derek grunts.
</p>
  <p>     “Any puppies that Cora and I have are going to be pack, right?” Despite her nonchalance, Erica's eyes are worried. She keeps picking at her nails. “And you'll be their alpha?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek does not like to imagine his little sister having puppies. But he swallows down his anger because this is a valid question. “Yes.” He side eyes her carefully. In the mall his sense of smell is thrown off so he can't tell if she's asking because she's pregnant or if this is hypothetical.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac presses in on Derek's other side. He's always been like this, craving physical attention. Derek doesn't blame him and encourages it. Wolves are very physical. “What about me and Allison? If she gets pregnant will her pups belong to our pack?” He doesn't bother to hide his anxiety at this question. It's no wonder. Even though Allison is human, she's technically part of Scott's pack.
</p>
  <p>     Oh no. Now Derek is wondering if Erica's question was a diversion. Is Allison pregnant? Derek honestly hadn't been paying much attention to her. However, now isn't the time to worry Isaac with a confused scent. Instead he nods. “No matter what, they'll be part of our pack.” He says it firmly, in a tone that leaves no question as to Derek's intention to fight over the pups if he has to. The idea of fighting Scott's pack isn't appealing. Scott's pack is bigger than his and the two packs are close now.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac nods and relaxes a little. “She isn't, by the way. I'm going to do it right and mate her first. I just wanted to make sure that no one could...” Isaac trails off but his meaning is clear; he doesn't want anyone to take away his pups.
</p>
  <p>     “They'll be part of the Hale pack, Isaac.” Derek squeezes Isaac's shoulder.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles and Boyd wander over not too much later, nothing in hand but smiling at each other. Stiles slips his hand into Derek's.
</p>
  <p>     Boyd wraps an arm around Erica's shoulders.
</p>
  <p>     Erica nuzzles into him. She starts talking in a hushed tone as they leave the store, mouth almost on his ear. Probably relaying the pup information.
</p>
  <p>     It reminds Derek that they're growing up. Sure, they're all seventeen but it doesn't matter. They're starting to think long term, of what they want in life.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles suddenly freezes and looks around. “Where's Liam?”
</p>
  <p>     The four of them freeze too, looking around for the missing beta. In the crowd, Derek can't get a scent to follow.
</p>
  <p>     “Oh my god, Scott's going to kill me if I lose his beta.” Stiles licks his lips as he scans the crowds.
</p>
  <p>     Boyd points over to the huge North Pole display. It takes up a good chunk of the ground floor of the mall. It's all Christmas decorations and fake snow and children everywhere. A lot of the kids are crying or screaming, their parents looking exhausted. And there's Liam, in an argument with the mall Santa and a few elves. “We'd better go rescue him.”
</p>
  <p>     “More like rescue them,” Stiles mutters under his breath as he pushes through the crowd.
</p>
  <p>     Derek lets Stiles take the lead on this. Stiles is part of Liam's pack and therefore Liam is more likely to listen to him. The group pushes through the crowd that seems dead set on not letting them through.
</p>
  <p>     When they finally make it to the mall Santa, Stiles breaks away from the group. He walks up with a certain swagger that betrays more confidence than Derek thinks Stiles is feeling. “Liam Dunbar, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Did you even wait in line? The looks on those parents faces are telling me no. We were looking at Lego's. Why would you even want to come over and harass the mall Santa? Get your ass back to the pack and I swear to god if you don't behave for the rest of this trip, I'm telling Scott to tie you up in the basement in the least sexy way imaginable.”
</p>
  <p>     Liam goes from looking surprised to looking bashful. His pale face turns red as he reluctantly follows Stiles away from the mall Santa.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's betas don't even try not to laugh. Erica punches him affectionately on the shoulder. “Careful, Liam, Santa's naughty list has nothing on Stiles' naughty list.”
</p>
  <p>     “You're both going on the naughty list,” Stiles grumbles as he takes Derek's hand again. He looks just like one of those irritated parents in line.
</p>
  <p>     Which is when Derek laughs. He can't help it. Stiles is cute. Especially when he's telling off werewolves.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles turns his gaze on him, eyes narrowed. “If you're feeling naughty too there's room on the list for you.”
</p>
  <p>     “I'll knot you.” Derek blurts out. He has exactly one blissful second before he realizes what he implied. If you can even imply something you intend to follow through with.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles looks surprised for a moment then he breaks out in a grin. He nudges Derek with his shoulder. “Oh I can get behind this game.” He reaches up to kiss Derek's cheek.
</p>
  <p>     “Ew, mom and dad are being gross.” Erica wrinkles her nose but her eyes are glistening with enjoyment. She doesn't look unhappy to see them kissing.
</p>
  <p>     Liam, on the other hand, shows his age by covering his eyes and groaning. “Ugh, guys, we're right here.”
</p>
  <p>     “Just be glad you don't have to share the loft with them.” Isaac chimes in. Like he's had it so bad.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls away to point a finger at his chest. “Isaac, you don't even live in our loft anymore.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's heart clenches at the way Stiles says 'our loft.' Stiles is practically living there already but it's always been Derek's loft. He likes the idea of sharing it with Stiles. So it's perfectly reasonable when he stops in the middle of traffic, pulls Stiles close, and kisses him dizzy.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Sleigh Ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pack goes for a sleigh ride.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>With the arrival of significant amounts of snow in Beacon Hills, new attractions have opened up. One of which includes sleigh rides. When the packs heard of it, they decided to go. Why they want to sit in the cold on a hard bench being pulled by a horse, Derek doesn't know. It's just one of those things. Why bother with a horse and sleigh when you can drive a car?
</p>
  <p>     Stiles insisted that Derek come with them. It's only a small group going, all of whom are part of Scott's pack; Ethan and Danny, Isaac and Allison, and Kira. He never specified what form Derek had to take so Derek agreed and now Stiles is fuming again because Derek is a wolf.
</p>
  <p>     It feels like it's been forever since Derek was last able to stretch his legs. In reality, it's been about a week since he was last in his wolf skin. He loves being a wolf. Loves the feeling of freedom that it provides. Even if his mate is angry.
</p>
  <p>     Derek races along with the sleigh, sometimes darting off into the bushes to track an interesting scent. He always keeps the sleigh bells in hearing range, though. When he's done chasing a rabbit, Derek comes bounding back. He's trying not to spook the horse – a large Clydesdale – and so far it seems to be working. That or the horse has balls of steel; which it doesn't because Derek can see it's balls from this angle.
</p>
  <p>     He can hear Stiles and the other pack talking but for the most part, Derek tunes it out. He just wants to run and explore his territory. The fast heartbeat of a small animal drives him back into the forest, out of sight. Derek bounds through on silent paws. When he comes across the mouse, he doesn't hesitate to snap it up. One bite and the mouse is dead in his stomach. He licks his lips even though he didn't really get to taste it's coppery blood and warm meat. That's okay. Another time.
</p>
  <p>     Derek runs back to the sleigh. He sprints alongside it for a few moments then leaps into the back.
</p>
  <p>     It seems like it must be an impulse because suddenly there are six hands in his fur. Everyone is petting him, stroking along his body.
</p>
  <p>     Derek wags his tail. If he were human it would be a little strange but as a wolf he likes the attention. Even if they are rubbing their scents all over him.
</p>
  <p>     Ethan's nostrils flare as he takes in the scents clinging to Derek's breath and fur. “Dude, what did you eat?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek flicks his ears back but doesn't respond otherwise. It's not like they're telepathic.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes Derek's face in both gloved hands. His black eyes stare into Derek's red ones. “Have you been eating little woodland creatures?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek whines a yes. He isn't sure how Stiles will feel about that. It's not like Derek needed to hunt.
</p>
  <p>     To his delight, Stiles laughs. “It's cool, Derek. I'm not a Disney princess. Eat all the furry little animals your stomach desires.”
</p>
  <p>     On impulse, Derek takes Stiles throat between his teeth, being extremely careful not to reopen the scabs on either side. It only lasts a few seconds before he lets go and rests his head in Stiles' lap.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles went completely still then let out a breathy laugh. His face is red and the faint aroma of arousal wafts off him. “I hope you don't expect me to do that back because I do not want a mouthful of fur.” Instead, Stiles fondles Derek's ears and gives his scruff a good scratch.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is starting to see the appeal of a sleigh. After all, they can't do this in a car.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Meeting The Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles visits the Hale family plot.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles honestly thought about telling Derek where he went but when it came down to it, he made up an excuse. He lied and said that he was going to go see his dad at the hospital. Which, frankly, Stiles <i>should</i> be doing. It's been a while since he's seen his dad and he has to make sure that no one is feeding him anything they shouldn't be. It's not that Stiles doesn't trust the nurses; it's that Stiles can do his job better if people would just stop being seduced into giving his dad unhealthy food. Personally he's hoping that everyone who ever let his dad have that crap is feeling guilty right now.
</p>
  <p>     Anyway. Stiles is not on his way to visit his dad in the hospital like he told Derek he was. It has very little to do with the still-healing bite on his throat; which Stiles has been covering up with a scarf. Now he's in the Jeep, hoping that no one he knows sees what he's doing. Not that what he's doing is wrong, per say. It's just that most people would have asked first before doing something like this.
</p>
  <p>     And, honestly, Stiles is fairly certain that Derek knows where he is. Or has a vague notion of where Stiles is. Stiles can feel where Derek is – back in the loft – and he doesn't think it's just his brain supplying him with that useful information. It's what his dad always calls a gut instinct. Stiles thinks the feeling has something to do with the mating bond but he has literally no one to ask and when you get into werewolf mating on the internet, it's mostly just wishful porn. Completely useless in this scenario.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls past the gates of the local cemetery and hears gravel crunching beneath the tires of his Jeep. There are no paved roads in the Beacon Hills cemetery. It's an old place, been here since the town was founded. Everyone who’s died in Beacon Hills has been buried here, whether they were natives or not. Which, now that Stiles thinks about it, is kind of weird. He sincerely hopes that he isn't driving into a supernatural mystery.
</p>
  <p>     Last night Stiles stayed up late thinking about family and puppies and Derek. Derek is a family guy. He loves his betas whether he'll admit it or not; even Jackson. He probably even loves Peter, despite all the shit his uncle has pulled. It's clear that the Hale family was close when the rest of them were alive. He even seems excited to see the pack expand with new members despite his betas still being teenagers in high school.
</p>
  <p>     Erica had texted him what Derek said at the mall. While there's no doubt that any pups Erica and Boyd or Jackson and Cora produced would belong to Derek's pack, Isaac and Allison are another story. Stiles doesn't like thinking about it – doesn't want to think about it right now especially since it's a non-issue at the moment – but what he's taking away from that conversation is that Derek is willing to fight for his family. That any pups belonging to his betas will be loved; and probably spoiled silly.
</p>
  <p>     Someone had to teach Derek to love like that.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles remembers the time Peter told them his narrative; the story of how he got his blue eyes. Even as skeevy as Peter is, he seems to have genuinely loved and respected his sister and family. The thing with Laura non-withstanding. And the thing with Malia. Actually, Peter might not be a good example of a close-knit family.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles parks in the lot then gets out of the Jeep and grabs a blanket and small cooler. Thanks to news reports, Stiles knows exactly where he's going. He walks along the snowy isles, reading tombstones as he passes them. One of them isn't in English and it makes Stiles pause. He stares until he can work out the language – German – and lets out a sigh of relief. Right before the Nogitsune possessed him, Stiles had had trouble reading. It actually didn't get better while he was being possessed, either.
</p>
  <p>     Kira's mom had explained that sometimes foxes don't understand languages.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles continues on until he comes to the Hale family plot. They have their own corner of the cemetery, an ode to how long they've been here and how many of them have died. Or been killed. Stiles is betting that not many of the werewolves died of natural causes. He pauses, reading each marker and tallying up how old each of the werewolves were when they died. The numbers are depressingly young.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is twenty-four and Peter is forty. Most of the werewolves didn't live past thirty-five. Peter died once already and was lucky that he managed to come back. By all rights he should be dying again sometime soon. There are some ages that are depressingly young, that make Stiles want to cry because they were just children.
</p>
  <p>     When Stiles comes to the grave he wants he's unsurprised to find that it's just as covered in snow as the rest of the markers. He brushes it off with gloved fingers then sets down the cooler. He only unfolds the blanket enough so that he can sit on it, keeping plenty of layers between him and the cold snow. Then he settles in and takes a moment to feel out the silence of the cemetery.
</p>
  <p>     No one really wants to visit the place when there's snow on the ground so Stiles has it all to himself. The snow muffles the sounds of the highway and the usual sing-song of birds has been replaced by the occasional ominous caw of a crow. It doesn't feel like there's anything waiting to catch him unawares. So Stiles clears his throat and smiles at the stone with Talia Hale's name etched into it. “Hi Talia, my name is...well you can call me Stiles Stilinski. Yeah, I'm the Sheriff's kid.” Once he starts talking it feels like the cold doesn't touch him.
</p>
  <p>     “I'm seventeen, still in high school. But don't let that fool you, I could have graduated by now if I'd wanted to.” Stiles frowns as he remembers a few conversations that teachers have had with his father. They all said that Stiles was wasting his potential and that if he could just focus he would be able to graduate early and do incredible things. “But I met your brother, Peter, and graduating early isn't an option anymore. I don't know if you would believe this, but things are crazy here in Beacon Hills.”
</p>
  <p>     “It's all I can do to keep my grades up and not get killed and manage to figure things out in time to save the day. Or at least stop more people from dying. I try, which I guess is all I can do, but it doesn't feel like enough.” This isn't how Stiles imagined this conversation going. “Sorry, I didn't mean to talk about this.”
</p>
  <p>     “I know your son, Derek. He's an alpha now. Has his own little pack. He can even do the whole transform-into-an-actual-wolf thing that you could do. It's actually really cool. When he first became an alpha he kind of, okay he really sucked at it. But now he's doing really good. And, you know, he bit people who needed it. Well, besides Jackson because he's a spoiled asshole but Isaac, Erica, and Boyd really needed this. To have some power and to have someone who will have their backs. The sense of family and safety that comes with pack.” Stiles nods to himself; smiling as he remembers the tentative days when they were getting used to each other and comparing them to the days now where Isaac will crawl into bed with them and Boyd will make pancakes in the morning and Erica will sing karaoke in the shower.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles touches his throat. “Derek bit me too. Not to turn me into a werewolf but to make me his mate. This probably isn't encouraging to hear but when I first met him I kind of hated him. I didn't trust him and I even got him arrested once or twice. Derek didn't like me much either. I annoyed him, too talkative, too weak. I don't even really know how we happened. But I'm glad we did. He's a good mate, even if he's still a little grumpy.”
</p>
  <p>     “I met him once when he was a teenager. It was only for a few hours but for those few hours he didn't know that his family was dead.” Stiles smiles, remembering the moments fondly even though they had been stressful at the time.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles opens the cooler and produces a picture of the pack, taken in the forest by a reluctant Scott. Reluctant because Allison is in the picture with Isaac's arm wrapped around her waist and her cheek pressed to his cheek. Stiles is pressed against Derek's front, not even looking at the camera. Derek has his chin on Stiles head and was teasing him. Boyd is kissing Erica's cheek and Erica is just beaming. Jackson is piggybacking Cora, whose flashing her teeth at the camera. To someone who doesn't know him, Jackson looks annoyed but he's secretly happy to be included in the pack photo.
</p>
  <p>     And that's it. This is their pack...plus Allison but she's <i>technically</i> pack.
</p>
  <p>     The photo is in a Ziploc baggie to protect it from the elements. “I don't know what I think about ghosts, I mean Peter did come back from the dead, but I thought that maybe you would want to see the pack that your son and daughter have made for themselves.” Because Stiles suddenly remembers that Cora is Derek's sister, which makes her Talia's daughter.
</p>
  <p>     And speaking of which, there are two other family members that Stiles forgot to bring pictures of. “I didn't bring a picture of Peter. Not sure if you're upset about that but he's an asshole. I'm sure Laura has told you all about it. And I honestly forgot about Malia, your niece. Peter's daughter. She's a Hale but she's in my friend Scott's pack. I don't really know how that happened.” Stiles bites his lip, thinking.
</p>
  <p>     “I came here to meet you because Derek misses you. All of you. And I thought that it would be right to go meet his family. Keep you guys updated. I don't know how being dead works, really, so I'm not sure if you're doing your own thing or watching us fumble around like idiots.” Stiles digs through the snow until he hits cold hard, dirt then sets the photo down. He buries it beneath the snow, trusting that it'll be safe enough here, like this. Then he takes out a thermos and two plastic shot glasses. The thermos is full of wolfsbane alcohol. Carefully he pours one out for Talia then one for himself. He sets Talia's cup in the snow. “I'd like to think that you're the type of mother who would be cool with the kids getting a little drunk but I have the feeling you'd be giving me the same disapproving look Derek does when he thinks I'm risking my life unnecessarily.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles throws back his shot anyway. It fills him with warmth and tastes very herb-y and bitter in his mouth. There was only enough in the thermos for two shots and though Stiles could drink more he isn't going to take Talia's offering. “I promise I'm not an alcoholic, by the way. But this is my Christmas present to you and it would be rude not to partake.”
</p>
  <p>     He can imagine Talia chuckling, how warm and loving her tone would be. If Stiles closes his eyes he can even imagine her red eyes glowing like embers, set in the kindly face of a wolf.
</p>
  <p>     Next he takes out some flowers, bought in a store, and sets the bouquet beside the liquor. They're blood red roses against the cold white snow. “I wish that I could be going through the whole awkward meeting the parents thing with you in person, Talia.” He sits sadly for a moment and tries not to think about how his mother's grave isn't too far from this one. Stiles feels no inclination to visit it. He and his mother didn't exactly part on a good note. She thought he was trying to kill her. Stiles just wanted it all to be over after so many years of dealing with a mother who didn't remember that she loved him.
</p>
  <p>     The hallucination he had had of his mother going basaltic on him wasn't a hallucination; it was a memory. So yes, Stiles is a little salty about it still. Calling it salty honestly doesn't even begin to describe his feelings towards it. Stiles wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “It was nice to meet you, Talia. I promise I'll do my best to keep him happy and out of trouble. And next time I'll try to bring him to visit.”
</p>
  <p>     With nothing left to say, Stiles gets to his feet. His throat is tight and his eyes are still prickling with the threat of tears. He collects the cooler and his empty shot glass and shakes the snow from the blanket. His heart feels heavier than he thought it would, which isn't Talia's fault because she was a lovely conversationalist. For some reason he feels twice as cold as he did before.
</p>
  <p>     It's started to snow again as he walks back down the aisle. The wind picks up, a sharp chill against Stiles' ears. If he didn't know any better he would say that it sounds like a wolf howling from a distance. A real wolf, not the noises the werewolves make. He pulls his hood up to protect them and hunches his shoulders, walking almost blindly away from the Hale family plot. The wolfsbane is warm in his stomach and he can feel its effects starting to kick in. It's always been potent, even to his human self.
</p>
  <p>     “Stiles?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles thinks that he's hallucinating when he hears Derek's voice. He raises his chin to look around for the voice.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is standing a little ways away from him, off to his left, looking like he saw a ghost. Which, wouldn't surprise Stiles in the slightest. But Derek is looking at Stiles like something is seriously wrong. He's got his hands shoved into the pockets of his new coat and his expression is surprised and awed and a little scared. And his eyes are a bright, cherry red like the end of a cigarette.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles turns towards him. He isn't sure what's going on with Derek but the way Derek is looking at him sends a shiver of unease down Stiles' spine. “How did you find me?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's gaze flickers over to his mother's grave. “I was called here.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles frowns at him. He knows that he didn't call Derek. He keeps his phone locked so that he doesn't accidentally pocket dial anyone. “By who?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek is silent for a long few moments. When he answers his voice is awed, “My mother. I was driving by and heard her howling. Just a minute ago.” He sounds like he doesn't believe it. But his eyes are all pupil and he's standing in the snow in the cemetery.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles whips around so fast that the blanket smacks him in the face. The roses are gone. He drops it and runs back to the grave. There's his footprints, of course, and the imprint of the blanket but there are also paw prints. Close to where he was sitting on the blanket in the snow. Almost as though a wolf was sitting next to him and keeping him warm against the cold. He glances at the shot glass he left and finds it empty. “I left her roses and wolfsbane alcohol! They were right here. Someone must have stolen it. Right?” Malia or Cora or Peter or maybe even Derek himself.
</p>
  <p>     But the paw prints don't wander off. In fact, there's no sign that a wolf even arrived there. Only that there was a wolf sitting beside Stiles. A horrible thought dawns on him. He turns to face Derek, who is suddenly much closer. Stiles grips his coat for dear life, as though he's drowning. “Tell me that those are wolf tracks. Please. Those belong to a wolf, right?” He doesn't say it, the words get caught in his throat. He's begging Derek to tell him that foxes – even supernatural ones – would have much smaller paw prints.
</p>
  <p>     Derek nods, almost numbly. Then suddenly he snaps out of it and looks at Stiles. Seems to really see him. “Did you see her?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles shakes his head until he's dizzy. “No. But I felt her. And I heard her laugh.” He pauses. “I heard the howling too but I thought it was the wind.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head. “She was good at throwing her voice. It's usually a fox trick but she could do it too.” He puts an arm around Stiles' shoulders and pulls him close. It's almost like he's afraid of something. But when he looks down at Stiles there's no fear in his expression, only confusion and fondness.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles wonders if Kira can throw her voice too. Wonders if he could do it now that he's got a body that isn't his, one that was made by a fox. He imagines hiding in the woods, calling softly and luring in an unsuspecting Derek. The brief and unwelcome daydream ends with bloodshed; and it isn't Stiles' blood that's being shed. Suddenly he feels sick to his stomach. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about coming out here.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek hesitates a moment longer then turns away with a slump to his shoulders. He probably wanted to see his mother one last time. They pick up the cooler and blanket. “Why did you come here?”
</p>
  <p>     “I wanted to meet the rest of your family.” Stiles explains softly. He feels a lick of warmth up his back and twists his head around. Gathered around the Hale plot are a group of wolves and humans, their images blurry and translucent. One of the wolves is holding a near-colorless bouquet of roses in her mouth. They could be a trick of the snow. Stiles waves two fingers back at them. He twists around to tell Derek but as he does the wolves vanish.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Caroling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The packs go caroling to raise money.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="font-darknavy"><p>Yesterday feels like a dream to Derek. He's half convinced that it was a dream. But that would mean that he lost an entire day to a strange dream that only got interesting at the end when he found Stiles. Derek hopes that's not a metaphor for his life.
</p>
<p>     And now, tonight, Derek is wondering if he's still in a dream. Though it's for an entirely different reason this cool evening. He trots down the street beside Stiles, ears twitching irritably at the sound of bells jingling with every step he takes. His neck itches and feels heavier than usual thanks to a bright red collar fastened around his neck. Derek is taking it in stride even though wearing the collar makes him want to bristle. Or bite someone.
</p>
<p>     Everyone in both of the packs are giving him sympathetic/amused looks while they take pictures of him. Derek wouldn't be surprised to find that someone is going to print and frame one for their room; Isaac. Probably Stiles too, but he would print two and hang one in his room at the Sheriff's and one at the loft. This is all very humiliating and Derek's pelt burns with the shame of parading himself around like a dog.
</p>
<p>     His reasons are good, Derek reminds himself as he trots down the snowy sidewalk. This isn't to humiliate him or degrade him. It was Kira's idea that they go caroling to raise money for the Sheriff's medical bills. Her reasoning was that a pack of werewolves should be able to harmonize. Clearly she's never heard of Scott's first attempt at howling, and how that sounded like a dying animal. But after some reluctance, the entire pack eventually agreed to do it.
</p>
<p>     Derek had been extremely reluctant – probably more reluctant than Jackson – to be outside singing. It's just not something he does. It's so far out of Derek's comfort zone. But he was going to tough through it because Stiles was his mate and that made the Sheriff part of the family too.
</p>
<p>     It was Allison who had suggested that maybe they needed something to endear them to the public. She had smelled nervous as she said this, like she already had a plan in mind and knew that they wouldn't like it. It was no surprise when most of both packs jumped down Allison's throat for suggesting that Derek go in his wolf form with the bell collar.
</p>
<p>     Scott had leaped to her defense, of course. Even if they weren't boning Allison Could Do No Wrong. He'd literally leaped to her defense, putting himself between her and the rest of the pack. Liam followed his alpha's example, planting himself by Scott's side even though he looked unsure.
</p>
<p>     Isaac looked like she'd lodged him full of arrows again. Boyd had slid out his claws and Erica looked two seconds away from ripping out Allison's throat.
</p>
<p>     Lydia and Danny were firmly on Allison's side. Kira was edging there as well.
</p>
<p>     Malia, Ethan, Aiden, and Cora looked sick to their stomachs at the idea.
</p>
<p>     Jackson had laughed.
</p>
<p>     Derek was quietly fuming and trying not to think of Kate. She'd never collared him – that would have been dumb even for her – but she had treated Derek like he was a pet. It made his stomach twist and fury rise within him. But he didn't say anything at all, too busy grinding his teeth together at the feeling of betrayal Allison inspired in him.
</p>
<p>     Stiles was the only one who didn't actively take a side. His black eyes were distant as he considered what she said. Then he'd nodded, like he was making up his mind. “I think it's a good idea. Statistics show that people are more likely to donate money if there's an animal involved, even if that animal is a werewolf.” He had turned to Derek, looking somewhat ashamed. “Not to mention, they already think that the big black dog is my pet so it would make sense for everyone to see your wolf with me.”
</p>
<p>     That had settled it. If Stiles wanted him to do it he would.
</p>
<p>     Which is why Derek is here now, glad that no one can see the blush under all the fur. He sighs again, harshly, while they're between houses.
</p>
<p>     “You don't have to do this, Derek.” Stiles informs him quietly for the hundredth time since they came up with the caroling idea this morning.
</p>
<p>     Derek shrugs. Even if by some miracle he could talk in his wolf form, he's carrying a basket in his mouth. He lets his shoulder bump against Stiles' hip.
</p>
<p>     The packs go through several carols per house. Derek sits in the front, holding his basket in his mouth. Sometimes he howls along. The basket has a note that says the proceeds are for Sheriff Stilinski's medical bills.
</p>
<p>     When people see him they typically laugh with delight. Derek does his best to make himself look as non threatening as possible. He wags his tail and perks up his ears and gives off the 'happy dog vibe. He even lets people pet him, sometimes, if they're children. But afterwards he always goes over to his pack and has them rub his fur until the scent of others comes out.
</p>
<p>     They carol for hours, until their human voices get sore and the basket gets heavy with money.
</p>
<p>     Boyd is the one who carries a backpack to put the money in every time the basket gets full or the wind threatens to blow it away.
</p>
<p>     Derek has already planned for Boyd to slip in some extra cash when Stiles isn't looking. He'll be damned if he can't help Stiles' father because of his mate's stubbornness. So when Derek bounds up to Boyd, the loyal beta slips in an extra twenty or hundred dollar bill that they didn't strictly earn from caroling. Sue them both.
</p>
<p>     The group carols until midnight. Normally it would be a school night but the high school is out for winter break. None of them have anywhere of importance to be tomorrow. Still, the packs are starting to get tired and cold even though Jackson regularly makes coffee runs. They couldn't convince Jackson to sing but he is playing gopher so he technically is helping.
</p>
<p>     When it's finally midnight and everyone is done with caroling – no one awake at this hour wants to hear it anyway – Stiles finds Derek. He sits on the curb beside him and unfastens the collar from around Derek's neck.
</p>
<p>     It's like being able to breathe again. Derek's first instinct is to destroy the collar and run away. Instead he drops the basket beside Stiles then rolls around in someone's yard. The cool feeling of the snow on his neck where the collar had been rubbing is nice. He rolls until he can almost imagine that the collar wasn't on in the first place. Then he goes back and sits beside Stiles.
</p>
<p>     “I think we did okay. I mean, it's not going to cover even a third of what we owe but every little bit helps. I'm still probably going to have to get a job after Christmas.” Stiles smooths his hand between Derek's shoulder blades like he so often does when Derek's human. “Thank you. I know you weren't thrilled by the whole collar and pretending to be my pet thing but I really appreciate it. And I won't ask you to do it again unless it's a matter of life and death but I honestly can't come up with a scenario that would require the collar again. At least, not outside the bedroom because if we're talking sexy then I can definitely get behind that.”
</p>
<p>     Derek makes a big show of rolling his eyes. He leans forward and gives Stiles a quick lick across his cheek.
</p>
<p>     Stiles puts an arm around him and buries his face in Derek's scruff. “I love you, you big sourwolf.”
</p>
<p>     Derek wags his tail even though he isn't sure that Stiles is aware of it. He loves Stiles too, so very much.</p></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Sledding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson, Stiles, and Scott go sledding.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles cannot believe that he's going sledding with Jackson Whittemore. He wonders if he woke up in an alternate reality where things like this are normal. But here he is, standing at the top of the tallest hill they could find, sleds in hand. Jackson is on one side of Stiles and Scott on the other. “So, are we going to do this or just stand up here like pussies?”
</p>
  <p>     Jackson side eyes Stiles then huffs. “Don't knock pussy just because you've never had any.” He manages to say it in the most condescending way possible. And honestly Stiles isn't sure if he's thinking about Lydia or Cora more when he says it.
</p>
  <p>     “Oh my god.” Stiles starts, not even sure where to begin like that. Yes, the phrase is sexist and the typical pussy takes a fairly regular pounding that frankly dicks couldn't ever take but goddamn. Besides, Stiles has had his ass pounded by dick before so it's not like these ladies have anything on him.
</p>
  <p>     “Actually, I'm with Jackson on this one,” Scott unhelpfully chimes in. He's grinning at Stiles, which also isn't very helpful. That's not an <i>'I've got your back bro'</i> grin even though Scott probably means for it to be.
</p>
  <p>     “Allow me to remind both of you, that my ass is regularly pounded by alpha cock. I'm not knocking pussies.” Stiles punches Scott but the only effect is having a sore hand. Stupid werewolves. “Anyway, I'm going to do this whether you two are or not.” With that Stiles leaps down the hill and situates his sled beneath him in the next three seconds. The wind rushes at his face, stinging. He lets out a whoop of joy because who doesn't like sledding? His gloved hands are gripping the edges of his sled tightly as he careens down the hillside.
</p>
  <p>     They had spent hours perfecting the hill. This included a huge wall of snow at the bottom to break their falls and prevent them from sliding right into the road. As well as a series of bumps and jumps to maximize the fun on the way down. Sledding is an art form, alright?
</p>
  <p>     Stiles glances back behind him pleased to see that Scott and Jackson are making their way down the hill too. They're both too competitive for their own good. They're probably going to be sore that Stiles is beating them to the bottom. He whoops again, the sound close to a howl.
</p>
  <p>     To his surprise, he hears two responding whooping-howls.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles twists around again to see both Scott and Jackson with their heads tilted back, mouths forming the O shape needed to howl. “Oh my god!” He laughs, knowing they can hear him, knowing they'll know why he's laughing. Predictably he reaches the bottom of the hill before the werewolves. As soon as he crashes into the wall of snow they build, Stiles is off his sled and running back up the hill with it.
</p>
  <p>     Naturally he's extremely upset when not a minute later, Scott and Jackson pass him. They're both hauling ass, laughing at the poor human being left behind. “Bet you wish you were a werewolf now.” Jackson says with the usual level of snide.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't bother to say no, he doesn't ever want to be a werewolf. They wouldn't understand. But he does roll his eyes. “Bitch, I started a pack howl! I'm wolf enough!” Except by the time he gets to the top, he's gasping for air.
</p>
  <p>     Scott and Jackson are lounging around like it's been hours instead of minutes. “Jeez, Stilinski, could you go any slower? I think only half my lifetime is gone now.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott snickers.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles fixes his supposed best friend with a glare. This is why Derek is his alpha. He drops his sled in the snow and places a hand over his heart. “I cannot believe you just laughed at Jackson mocking me. That's it. We're not best friends anymore, Scott.” Then he jumps onto his sleigh and slides down the hill again. “Friendship over!”
</p>
  <p>     “Wait, Stiles!” Scott is clearly taking this to heart. He follows only a split second later, hunkered low on his sled to make himself go faster. When they're side by side, Scott reaches out for Stiles' hand. “Come on, man, you know I love you.”
</p>
  <p>     “You're leaving me for a werewolf.” Stiles twists around on his sled to throw over his shoulder, “An asshole werewolf!”
</p>
  <p>     “Hey! Dude, you totally left me for Derek first.”
</p>
  <p>     Point taken but, “Because you left me for Allison.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott flinches. “And Derek used to be the asshole werewolf. Remember?” They're rapidly approaching the bottom of the hill. Scott's hand is still out. He's giving Stiles the pleading brown puppy dog eyes. This isn't even a serious fight and he just whips out that look like it's nothing.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs loudly, dramatically, so that Scott knows he doesn't appreciate it when he takes Jackson's side over Stiles'. Then he reaches out with a hand and clasps onto Scott's hand. “If this breaks my arm I'm going to sic my alpha on you!”
</p>
  <p>     Scott just laughs. He looks pleased though, that Stiles has forgiven him.
</p>
  <p>     From behind them Jackson yells, “Gay!”
</p>
  <p>     Then they hit a bump and go flying off their sleds. The world goes bottom over top a few times then he's being cradled in Scott's arms. Aside from having the wind knocked out of him, Stiles feels fine. “Dude, let go.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott is laughing again as he lets Stiles up.
</p>
  <p>     Jackson slides down the rest of the hill, skidding to a stop and looking generally graceful while doing it.
</p>
  <p>     “Asshole,” Stiles says because that's what he's supposed to do.
</p>
  <p>     Jackson just huffs like the whole talking to a human thing is beneath him.
</p>
  <p>     They run up and sled down the hill until Stiles is so tired he can hardly pull himself up off the ground. All three of them are covered in snow and if the cold wetness is anything to judge by, Stiles would say that some of it has gotten into his winter clothing. So not cool. On yet another trek up the mountain, Stiles collapses in the snow beside his sled. He's too tired and cold. “What if we stopped sledding for the day?”
</p>
  <p>     Scott walks back down to him, managing to kick some snow in Sties' face. He giggles out an apology then hauls Stiles to his feet. “Jesus, dude, you're cold.”
</p>
  <p>     “Wow your observational skills have really improved in the past year, Scott. I'm impressed. Too bad I don't have my gold star stickers on me or you would totally get one.” Stiles brushes the snow off himself the best he can but it doesn't help what's already gotten into his clothes. He shivers hard a few times as they wait for Jackson to get his ass back down the hill.
</p>
  <p>     When he finally does he takes one look at Stiles then jerks his head down the road. “The loft isn't too far from here if you want to go.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles snorts. “Of course I want to go. Onward!” He picks up his sled then starts walking in the direction of Derek's loft. By the time the trio gets there, Stiles can't feel his toes. He shakes off the worst of the snow still clinging to him in the hallway before entering through the front door. The rush of heat is lovely and painful all at the same time. Stiles starts shedding his outer layer of clothes quickly, leaving it all in a heap by the floor.
</p>
  <p>     Scott and Jackson make two separate heaps with their clothes. Scott hovers awkwardly in the doorway, still not entirely comfortable with being in another alpha's territory. “So you aren't going to Europe with your parents this Christmas?”
</p>
  <p>     Jackson has no such qualms – since Derek is his alpha – and goes to make a pot of coffee. “If I was I'd already be there, McCall.”
</p>
  <p>     “Don't fight now, boys.” Stiles could use the caffeine and warmth but he's got more important things to do right now like find out where his mate has gotten off to. He winds his way upstairs, glances at Peter's room but doesn't slow. Without knocking he opens the door.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is laying flat on his stomach, only a sheet to cover his nudity. He's laying in a beam of sunlight, snoring softly and looking completely relaxed. He doesn't give any indication that he knows Stiles is even there.
</p>
  <p>     So it only makes sense when Stiles pounces on the bed. He's still cold and there's still snow in his hair but he gives no fucks. “Hi Derek!”
</p>
  <p>     Derek almost punches him. It comes really close, Derek managing to stop in time when he realizes who it is. Then he groans, letting his head flop back onto the pillows. He rolls back onto his stomach, eyes squeezed shut. “Don't you have anything better to do? This bed was warm.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles strips out of his clothes in a big hurry. He throws them, letting them land wherever they land. Then he crawls on top of Derek and presses his cold body against the length of Derek's warm one. A content noise slips from his throat. “Nope, this is exactly where I need to be right now. My pathetic human self can't handle the cold in large amounts.” He nuzzles the back of Derek's neck as he soaks up the heat from his mate's perfect body and from the rays of sun still streaming through the window. Stiles is smiling when he realizes, “Hey, I kind of like being on top.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles feels Derek shiver against him, knows it has nothing to do with the cold seeping off of Stiles. He lifts his head so that he can plant chaste kisses along Derek's shoulders and the knobs of his spine. The idea of topping Derek sends Stiles' blood straight to his cock, which is situated perfectly against Derek's butt. His heart rate spikes and his breath catches as he slowly grinds against Derek's ass.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's breath catches too but he doesn't stop Stiles in any way. A low noise, almost a whine, comes from him. His thighs part, just a little, to allow Stiles' cock to slip deeper between his cheeks. He rolls his hips a little, pushing up against Stiles. His face is hidden by his arms but he still doesn't seem inclined to stop or switch positions.
</p>
  <p>     For once Stiles doesn't have anything to say. He listens to the quiet sounds of pleasure that Derek makes – each one of them sending a jolt through his abdomen – and wonders why they've never done this before. The worst part is that Stiles isn't even fucking him yet, hasn't made any attempt to push inside of him. Very quickly the cold is all but forgotten even though when Stiles pushes himself up to get better leverage, hands on Derek's hips, his fingers burn from the heat Derek's giving off.
</p>
  <p>     Derek always runs hot but when he's aroused he gets even hotter. As if that's really what the world needs from this walking sex god. His moans get a little louder, a little less of a needy whine. He glances back at Stiles, making eye contact. “Lube's in the drawer.” It's totally unnecessary to tell Stiles this – he <i>knows</i> where the lube is – but it's Derek's way of saying that Stiles can top, can fuck him.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles almost falls off the bed in his haste to reach over and grab the bottle of lube. His fingers wrap around around the slick bottle and he pops the cap open before he's even situated properly on top of Derek. Stiles pauses, debating between whether he wants to eat Derek out before he fucks him or just go for it now.
</p>
  <p>     In the end Stiles decides to save the rimming for another time. He wants to savor this being on top of Derek, the feeling of their bodies flush against each other in a way they actually haven't been before. So Stiles pours some lube between Derek's cheeks and watches the way it slides down Derek's balls. He swallows hard. “That's so hot.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek makes a noise that could be agreement or could be mocking Stiles. Either way, he lifts his hips off the mattress, wordlessly telling Stiles to hurry up.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pours more lube onto his cock before closing the cap and tossing it aside. He adjusts his position then slides his cock between Derek's cheeks again. His cock glides smoothly as he gives short thrusts. Their bodies make slick noises together, which should probably be gross, but it sounds really sexy. He picks up the pace and god his dick feels so good. “I want to fuck you.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's face is hidden in the crook of his arm again, moans barely audible. He nods again and if Stiles didn't know better he would say that his mate is shy.
</p>
  <p>     It makes sense; Derek has probably never been topped before. So Stiles kisses and nips along Derek's shoulders again, trying to set him at ease. There's a fleeting thought of preparation but it doesn't stick. “Do you need me to -”
</p>
  <p>     “No.” Derek's muscles twitch beneath him. He pushes his hips up, up, and props himself onto his knees. So they're doing this face-down-ass-up.
</p>
  <p>     Oh. Stiles' eyes grow wide at the sight of Derek's perfect ass and thighs, the slope of his back. “Jesus H Christ you're literally perfect.” He gets onto his knees behind Derek, hands roaming, unsure of where to set them. Hips would be good but damn he just wants to stare a little and maybe jack off to the sight of Derek spread wide for him. Stiles bites his lip as he reigns in his thoughts. Some other time. They probably have enough time left in their lives.
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes and gives a good-natured growl. He seems very impatient to get going even though he hasn't said as much. It's not like the alpha has anywhere else to be. Or maybe he's just really excited at the thought of being fucked.
</p>
  <p>     Oh. Stiles' face warms as he positions himself, lining his cock up with Derek's slick entrance. In some of his weaker moments he's read some interesting werewolf porn and this definitely reminds him of it now, if Derek were a needy omega. Oh Jesus, don't think about that now. Stiles doesn't meet too much resistance pushing into Derek, which leads him to believe that his mate has been fucking himself on the sly. He tries to go slow either way, taking his time, letting Derek gets used to his cock.
</p>
  <p>     “Stiles,” Derek's voice is a low growl. “Just fuck me.” His claws are out, tearing into the pillow. He pushes back against Stiles, forcing him to bottom out. Derek lets out a shuddering moan.
</p>
  <p>     Pleasure rushes at Stiles, making him feel dizzy with it and the heat. God, Derek is perfect inside too. His walls feel so good around Stiles' cock. Where has this been all his life? He moans against the spirals of Derek's tattoo as he snaps his hips again and again.
</p>
  <p>     Beneath him Derek moans, pushing up against him with every thrust. He's so willing, spine arching and muscles flexing beneath perfect skin. His voice isn't loud when he moans but Stiles is used to the silences and knows what to look for. Knows that the whines mean he's close. That the shivers and keens mean that thrust was particularly pleasurable. His body is giving off so much heat.
</p>
  <p>     The pleasure that curls inside of Stiles is golden and pure. Nothing like the black spark he sometimes feels when Derek is fucking him in the moonlight. Maybe it's the sunlight. Stiles doesn't know or care, isn't going to analyze it beyond the fact that sex with Derek like this is making him feel on top of the world. With the afternoon sun beating down on them it takes less than five minutes to work up a sweat. Stiles swears softly as his hands sip on Derek's hips. He doesn't stop, can't stop, needs to chase this golden feeling. He plants his hands in the sheets like he would plant them in the soil around the nemeton. Snaps his hips forward hard and fast, positioning accurate enough to draw long keens from his mate.
</p>
  <p>     Derek lifts his head off the pillow, twists his neck around for a kiss. His lips meet Stiles' in a dry, chaste kiss that leaves the werewolf whining for more. One hand slides between the sheets and his abdomen to stroke his dripping cock. His legs tremble and threaten to give out as he loses himself in their pleasure. Stiles' name is on his lips.
     It's only when Derek starts stroking himself that Stiles realizes he's no longer face-down-ass-up. His hips are barely off the bed, like how it was when they started. In fact, Stiles is barely even pulling out before slamming back in with a satisfying smack of their skin. He can feel the sweat rolling down his spine to settle in the small of his back. Pleasure builds within him, fast, and he has half a second to think about how Derek is going to be filled with <i>his</i> cum before he's orgasming. His cock jerks as he fills Derek with cum, pleasuring surging through Stiles' cock.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hasn't cum yet, is still whining into the pillow as his hand tries to provide enough friction to get off.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls out with a hiss. He refuses to not satisfy his mate. “Roll over.”
</p>
  <p>     With a groan, Derek complies though for a second it's a mess of limbs and sweat. He lays on his back with his knees bent and legs spread, a pretty display. His cock is hard, flushed a pretty red, the foreskin pushed back. Derek's hand moves to wrap around it again.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles bats it out of the way. He kneels in between Derek's knees then bends down and takes that perfect cock in his mouth. Stiles is no stranger to blow jobs, in fact he loves giving them. The tip of his tongue prods at the slit as he swallows down as much cock as possible. He wiggles his tongue, hollowing out his cheeks, as he takes in after inch. Stiles doesn't give up until his nose is resting against the dark curls of Derek's pubic hair.
</p>
  <p>     Derek bucks his hips up as Stiles deep throats him. He doesn't waste any time at all, knowing that Stiles can take it. One hand threads through Stiles' short hair, the other is splayed over his face. A single red eye peers out between his fingers as he watches Stiles. “Fuck, Stiles.”
</p>
  <p>     That's what Stiles likes to hear. At least in this situation. He redoubles his efforts, clenching his throat around Derek's cock. There is no gagging. He doesn't even have a gag reflex, thank all the gods. He lets Derek do what he wants, loves the feeling of his throat being fucked raw. Stiles will be hoarse after this.
</p>
  <p>     All of a sudden, Derek makes a strangled noise and tries to pull away. “Stiles, my knot -”
</p>
  <p>     What Stiles didn't expect was the knot to form. He should have because Derek said that it was going to be a thing from now on. But to be fair he'd only taken it three times now out of the hundreds of times they've had sex. A dirty little thought that maybe he could take it in his mouth clouds his mind. He wants to try. Maybe it won't be overly pleasant – they have been tied together for almost an hour before – but Stiles wants to try. So he gets a firm grip on Derek's butt and lifts him up, refusing to not make an attempt.
</p>
  <p>     When Derek cums he lets go of Stiles' head to fist his hand in the sheets. His body arches, all shiny with sweat and highlighted by the yellow sunlight, looking more perfect than ever. His bottom lip is red from his teeth biting it, from sucking on it. The moan he lets out when he orgasms is beautiful.
</p>
  <p>     From where Stiles is, Derek really does look like a god. He doesn't even taste Derek's cum as it's pumped down his throat but he can feel it settling hot in his stomach. There's something erotic about that. So erotic that it gets Stiles' cock twitching again. Time ticks on and Stiles' jaw hurts but he couldn't pull away if he wanted. Not without hurting Derek. So he swallows down Derek's cum like a good mate until the knot slowly starts to go down. Stiles slowly eases up, testing every few seconds to see if he can pull up with accidentally biting Derek. When he finally can, he lets his lips drag along the shaft of Derek's cock, tongue flicking the head of it right before he pulls off with a dirty pop.
</p>
  <p>     Immediately, Derek pulls Stiles on top of him. He hugs him tight then rolls them onto their sides. “You're incredible. I love you.” Derek's stubble is rough against Stiles' neck.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is still getting his breath back. He cracks his jaw with a yawn then settles down against Derek. “I do try.” He chuckles at how rough his voice sounds; he can barely even talk in a whisper. It's worse than he initially thought it would be. But totally worth it. “I love you too.” Stiles closes his eyes before he remembers that he didn't come here alone. “Where are Scott and Jackson?”
</p>
  <p>     “They left a while ago,” Derek replies, voice slurred with sleep. “After it became clear we were going to have sex.”
</p>
  <p>     Later Stiles will laugh about that. Right now he just wants to sleep.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Christmas Cards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pack writes Christmas cards and Stiles visits the nemeton.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Normally this close to Christmas and without a crisis there would be some serious holiday cheer going on. However, the sixteen of them are all somber with downcast eyes. They stand around Derek's kitchen table, staring down at the boxes of Christmas cards, clipboards, and black ink pens. No one is speaking.
</p>
  <p>     Jackson is the first to take a deep breath. “Alright. Well we might as well get this over with.” He grabs two pens, a clipboard and a huge handful of cards. Then he grabs a cushion off the couch and puts it on the floor near the wall. He makes himself comfortable and just stares at them.
</p>
  <p>     Danny is the one who walks over to Jackson and hands him a list. It's similar to a dead pool except that some of these people are already dead; were killed by Jackson. The list has the names and addresses of the next of kin for the people that Jackson killed. When he comes back to the table he hands out lists to everyone.
</p>
  <p>     Some of them have lists that are significantly longer than others but no one has a list as long as Jackson's.
</p>
  <p>     One by one they go off to their own corners of the loft. All of them stay in sight but none of them touch and none of them speak. The mood is heavy, tension thick in the air.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sits down at the now mostly-empty table. He has a lot of cards but not as many as some people. It's actually mostly family, thankfully. Most of his friends, all of his friends, are in this very room. Derek hasn't killed a lot of people, either. Which would probably come as a surprise to most. Apparently he has a murderer vibe. It's mostly family that he writes to, mostly the ones who had been trapped in the fire.
</p>
  <p>     Derek writes to his sister, his father. He writes to cousins and aunts and uncles. Recalls the good times and apologizes for what he did to them. He writes to Kate, the letters on the card angry and sharp. The letter to her is for him, for his family, for his sixteen-year-old self. A way to seek some closure.
</p>
  <p>     His mother, Derek saves for last. He ponders over what to tell her, over what he could possibly say. Since she died, Derek has seen her twice now; once with her own claws and once because of Stiles. In the end he only writes seven words to her.
</p>
  <p>     I'm sorry.
</p>
  <p>     I love you.
</p>
  <p>     Thank you.
</p>
  <p>     At some point, Derek glances up at Stiles, who's sitting opposite of him at the table.
</p>
  <p>     Most of Stiles cards aren't to family and friends. They're to the ones that he's killed, the ones who died because of him. He's hunched over the table, writing quickly. His pen doesn't stop moving, as though it's going the same speed as his mind. There's a hard look in his eyes, an expression of concentration on his face. Stiles is so far gone in his memories he probably isn't aware of how fast his heart is pounding despite how shallowly he's breathing.
</p>
  <p>     The only noises in the entire room are the scratch of pen on card-stock and the occasional sniffle. No one would blame anyone for outright sobbing. A faint hint of salt and water scent in the room indicates that more than one of them are crying silently. It's no wonder. All of them except for Derek are teenagers and they've all been through so goddamn much that it really isn't fair.
</p>
  <p>     Scott is the first one to finish, followed by Liam. The golden wolves. Never responsible for someone dying. Most of their family alive and a good portion of their friends in this room. They're equal parts enviable and annoying. Scott and Liam seal up their cards in envelops and stamp them. They make only one of three piles; the living. Then they go outside, probably so they can finally talk.
</p>
  <p>     The rules of tonight were dictated by Stiles and everyone agreed on them. Jackson was the only one to break them, but that was just to get everyone started. He's forgiven.
</p>
  <p>     One by one the other members of the packs come with their sealed envelopes and either place them in the living pile or start a new one. The other two piles are for the dead and the relatives of the dead.
</p>
  <p>     Derek sorts his too. He watches Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Still writing.
</p>
  <p>     Though Danny doesn't have any deaths on his hands and has plenty of friends outside the packs, he stays until the last two – Stiles and Jackson - are finished. Ethan and Aiden finished before the two of them, despite having killed their entire previous pack and who knows how many innocents between. Danny carefully places the prepared envelopes into one of the boxes then waves at Derek and Stiles and heads out to mail them on his way home.
</p>
  <p>     Derek isn't sure if he's allowed to talk now.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't look like he's in the mood to talk. His shoulders are slumped and his black eyes look haunted. Of course, Stiles is haunted. Everyone knows it. He gets to his feet like the weight of the world is on his shoulders then gathers up the last pile of envelopes. The ones to the dead.
</p>
  <p>     Derek grabs the backpack full of supplies and together they go down to the car. The drive into the forest is quiet, air thick with words unspoken and the letters between them.
</p>
  <p>     “Stop.” It's the first word that Stiles has spoken in hours.
</p>
  <p>     Derek parks the car and gets out of it. He fishes the box out of the backseat then follows Stiles through the woods. He doesn't know where he's going; by which he means, he can't get there on his own. His mind doesn't hold the knowledge no matter how many times he's visited the nemeton. Overhead the moon is almost full, it's pale light bathing them in silver and shadows.
</p>
  <p>     They walk for an hour, Stiles’ step never wavering. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his red hoodie; no new coat for him now.
</p>
  <p>     Derek didn't ask. He isn't going to pretend like this makes sense to him. Then again, he's never understood druids so his mindset now – even regarding Stiles – isn't that surprising. They're getting into the hour and a half mark when Derek realizes something. “I can't smell you.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles glances at him, his gaze unreadable. “I masked my scent so we wouldn't be followed.” He gives Derek a once over. “You shouldn't be able to smell yourself, either.”
</p>
  <p>     The thought is deeply disturbing. A werewolf's sense of smell is important. He lifts an arm to his nose and takes a deep breath. Nothing. Derek frowns. When the nemeton comes into view, it erases all thoughts of scent from Derek's mind. His skin crawls being near it, even though it's nothing but a stump now. He wonders if it's the fact that it's a stump that worries him or if he would feel the same seeing it as a huge tree. Somehow Derek thinks things would be the same no matter what form the nemeton takes.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes the box of cards from him. He's close enough to kiss and the idea seems to cross his mind. Then he shakes his head and turns to the nemeton. After a moment of thought, Stiles climbs on top of it. He sits on the west side, facing east. From his hoodie pocket, Stiles pulls out a black candle. One end of the candle is shoved into a crack on the nemeton's surface. It catches fire almost instantly.
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes an involuntary step backwards. Magic makes him uncomfortable.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are solid black, pale expression neutral. His aura is different though, at once darker and paler. One by one Stiles starts to burn the letters. Their ashes fly up into the sky, vanishing from sight seconds later. His lips move in words that not even Derek's sensitive ears can pick up. It's times like this that Derek can really see Stiles' spark.
</p>
  <p>     An alpha's spark shines red. It's what gives them their eye color. It's a bright, powerful thing, this spark within an alpha. There are other sparks too. The green spark that druids have. It doesn't influence their eyes like it does in werewolves or in any physical way that Derek has ever noticed. He doesn't even know how he knows that it's green. Just something that he feels. Kira the kitsune has a spark; brilliant orange in color despite her being a lightning kitsune and not a fire one. Malia the werecoyote has one too, startling blue like her guilty eyes; something she inherited from her mother.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' spark is different. It doesn't look anything like a spark; which like the name suggests is bright and hot and colorful. His spark is black and moves like liquid mercury rather than burning within him. It does show in his eyes – these moments where there is no brown or yellow in the irises – but you have to know what you're looking at to realize what it is. The origin of Stiles' spark is up for debate and Derek has spent hours debating with Deaton and Peter over it.
</p>
  <p>     Did Stiles always have a spark that just happened to be corrupted by the Nogitsune?
</p>
  <p>     Or did the Nogitsune give Stiles this spark?
</p>
  <p>     There's no point in asking Stiles about it. He won't say anything on the matter, gets closed off and defensive.
</p>
  <p>     Sensing that this will take a while, Derek settles in to wait. There are a lot of letters and Stiles is doing it one by one.
</p>
  <p>     It's dawn when Stiles wakes him to a sky streaked with orange. There's soot on Stiles' pale face and on his fingers. He looks exhausted and drained. “Let's go home. I need a nap before we officially do Christmas.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes Stiles home, makes him drink an entire two cups of orange juice, then sends him to bed and crawls in beside him.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Gift Exchange</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The pack opens Christmas presents.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>It's midday at Lydia's lake house and Stiles is still yawning. He clutches tightly to the mug of coffee that Lydia handed him the second he walked in. The only thing keeping him from leaning on Derek is the fact that the werewolf has his arms full of presents.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia points to a large Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. “Put the presents there, please.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek sets them down carefully even though there's nothing breakable. He's pleased to see that his wrapping skills are better than some of the others. When he finds Stiles again, it's on the couch, still clutching his mug and looking for all the world like he's going to fall asleep. Derek slides onto the couch next to him, pulling his mate close against his body. “You okay, Stiles?”
</p>
  <p>     Lydia huffs. “He should still be sleeping. The spell he used took up a lot of energy.”
</p>
  <p>     Everyone in the room looks at her with varying degrees of confusion.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia huffs again, louder, and tosses her hair. “What? You think we didn't talk about what he was going to do beforehand?” She doesn't say it but they probably had help; Deaton's help. Which is fine and all but Deaton has his own agenda...whatever that is. Lydia claps her hands together as though she doesn't have the attention of everyone in the room. “Alright, it's present time. Alphas first – Scott sit down – with Derek going first because he has seniority.”
</p>
  <p>     From beside Derek, Stiles giggles. “She called you old.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes. He moves to get up but Lydia holds out a hand to stop him.
</p>
  <p>     She places all of his presents on the coffee table within his reach then steps backwards. There's presents from all of his betas, including Cora and Jackson, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison.
</p>
  <p>     This is suddenly a lot of pressure. After the fire expressing himself – especially his happiness – has become hard. To say the absolute least. His pack is going to want him to be thrilled though. Derek tries to keep the nervousness out of his scent as he picks up the one from Erica first. It's a small box that has something small and black in it. Derek's forehead crinkles when he takes out the small booties. He looks at Erica, eyebrow raised.
</p>
  <p>     “For when you go ice skating again.” Erica looks pleased with herself but there's a warning in her expression. Apparently she didn't miss the fact that his paws were bleeding. She nods to the box again. “There's more.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek pulls out a Best Buy gift card for five hundred dollars and raises his eyebrow at her again.
</p>
  <p>     “You seriously need a TV in the loft, Derek.” Erica all but whines the words.
</p>
  <p>     To his surprise, Scott and Kira burst into laughter. Scott is grinning between Kira and Derek. “You really do, man.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek shrugs, feeling his face burn a little as he mumbles a thank you. Everyone wants to decorate his loft, make it more than just a place he sleeps. Well since it's pack headquarters, he supposes he can't really argue with it. He picks up Boyd's present next and narrows his eyes at the weight. It looks suspiciously like a book and though Derek does read, he doesn't think that they have the same taste. He was right about it being a book but it's subject makes his chest tight. It's an architecture book, full of pictures and blue prints for different styles of houses and buildings. He carefully sets it back down and nods at Boyd.
</p>
  <p>     Boyd nods back, scent pleased and eyes soft.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac provides a bottle of wolfsbane champagne and a sheepish shrug. He doesn't say where he got it from but it looks like it was hand packaged.
</p>
  <p>     Jackson's surprising gift to him is in the form of a slender black bracelet. The package says that it's a waterproof step counter. “I always like knowing how much I'm doing when I work out but you run more so.” He ends it with an awkward shrug.
</p>
  <p>     Cora probably bought her presents from the dollar store. There's a calendar with pictures of the night sky and all of the phases of the moon dated. Her other gift to him is a cheap gray wolf plushie with fur that isn't the softest Derek has ever felt. She flips him off after he opens her present. That's Cora for him. It's okay, he got her presents from the dollar store too.
</p>
  <p>     Allison's present is literally a box of weapons. They're made of black carbon fiber with sharp silver tips. The box they come in is padded so that they don't get damaged. She studies his face closely then says, “Just in case you need them for any reason.” If it wasn't Allison who gave them to him, Derek would think that this was a clear message to kill himself.
</p>
  <p>     Finally Derek gets to Stiles' gift. He has no idea what to expect; is half expecting porn. Instead he gets a pair of soft black gloves with...pink paw pads on them. “Really?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles grins at him. “Toe beans are the best.” He has that mischievous look on his face again.
</p>
  <p>     Just to spite him, Derek puts the gloves on. They fit well and feel soft on the inside too. These will definitely keep his hands warm. He stares at the paw pads, probably supposed to be kitten pads, and sighs. They look so ridiculous on him.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles leans over to kiss his cheek. “Just kidding, this is your actual present.” He pulls out an envelope from his hoodie pocket. It's a little crinkled.
</p>
  <p>     Derek uses his teeth to take off the gloves then tears the envelope open with a claw. Inside is a paper that says he has a free firearms class. He looks from the paper to Stiles and back again. “I don't...” then trails off because everyone is watching them.
</p>
  <p>     “I think it would be good if you knew how to handle them,” Stiles replies quietly.
</p>
  <p>     About half an hour later when Stiles is opening his present from Allison, it becomes clear why he said that. She – and her father – got him two handguns that shoot wolfsbane bullets. Of course they did. But Derek can't really complain because there have been times when Stiles does need them. To his surprise, Stiles wastes no time in pulling a gun out and checking the chamber. He hefts it in his hand and takes aim, pointing at a vase somewhat close to Scott's head.
</p>
  <p>     There's a sudden nervous scent coming from Scott but none of the werewolves in the room mention it.
</p>
  <p>     Finally Stiles grins and puts the gun down. “Awesome! Thanks, Allison.” He gets quite the haul, most of it either Marvel fan merch or relating to magic. Derek's gift is the only one that isn't either of those. When Stiles opens his gifts and sees the bright red, silicone jewelry, he turns to Derek, confused. “They look cool but I don't really understand.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek holds up the necklace, a black chew-able phoenix then puts it around Stiles neck. “It's for chewing on.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' eyes go wide. Immediately he brings the pendant to his mouth and starts chewing on it. After a minute of this he nods. “Good. I like it. What about this one, though?” He holds up the bracelet with green glass beads.
</p>
  <p>     Derek puts it around Stiles' wrist. “For fidgeting. It's to give your hands something to do.” He bites his lip. “You can suck on it but the beads are made of glass so don't chew on it.”
</p>
  <p>     This too, goes to Stiles' mouth. The glass clacks against his teeth even though he heads Derek's warning not to chew. “I like it. They feel cold.” Finally he holds up the last one. “A ring?”
</p>
  <p>     The ring has the infinity symbol cut into it several times. Derek puts it on Stiles' index finger and is pleased to find that the size is right. Then he spins it. “Spinner ring. Not for your mouth at all, just for hands.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles spins the ring a few times, a smile on his face as he watches in infinity symbols blur. He throws his arms around Derek's neck and nuzzles against his throat. “These are so cool! You're the literal best. I love you.”
</p>
  <p>     A happy growl rumbles in Derek's throat. Happiness buds in his chest, a pleased swell that he could make his mate so happy with just a few pieces of jewelry. He nuzzles Stiles back.
</p>
  <p>     They settle back together to watch the others open their presents. Stiles doesn't stop playing with his new jewelry.
</p>
  <p>     Derek had signed all of his betas up for self-defense classes - including Jackson and Cora – because he can only teach them so much. Isaac seems happy with his scarf, putting it around his neck even though it must smell like Peter since they were in his room. Boyd beams at the rare comic books that Derek tracked down for him. Erica hugs him when she opens her present and sees a leather skirt and fishnets. Derek and Cora laugh over the fact they got each other the same cheap wolf plushie. Jackson received a leather jacket, which makes Stiles burst into laughter and congratulate him for being an official part of the pack.
</p>
  <p>     Lydia likes the lingerie that Stiles got her and tells Aiden to shush when he growls. All in all everything goes well.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Wearing Stockings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek have more sex with more stockings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Stiles stares at his reflection and adjusts the garter belt that hugs his waist. He swipes his tongue over his lips. His gaze is stuck on his lower regions; specifically his thighs where the red lace of his stockings rest. The red stands out on his pale skin. For some reason the moles on his legs look darker, like little spots of nothingness. Seems fitting, all things considered.
</p>
  <p>     Derek doesn't know about this purchase. It had taken some stealth to get these stockings. Stiles had ordered them online and had them shipped to his father's house. His dad got out of the hospital a few days ago so it made sense that Stiles would go see him. When they were done at Lydia's lake house, they'd stopped by the Sheriff's house for Christmas and Stiles smuggled the package to Derek's loft with him.
</p>
  <p>     The lace went so well last time that Stiles wants to try again. Not in a department store, but in their loft. He smiles at himself in the mirror, pulling a fake it till you make it with his confidence. Then he pulls his jeans back up. Stiles grabs his Captain America shirt off the counter and slips it on over his head, smoothing it into place. One last look in the mirror to confirm that he looks normal – he does – then he heads out to the main room.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is cooking dinner. He stands in front of the oven, a boiling pot full of spaghetti on the stove top. His butt looks great in the tight black jeans he's wearing. But Derek's butt always looks great. It's like god himself sculpted that ass.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles strides over to Derek and presses himself flat against his back. He wraps his arms around Derek's waist and nuzzles the space between his shoulder blades. “Hey there, Sourwolf.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek shifts Stiles' hands to his hips. “Careful, Stiles, it's hot.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's statement makes Stiles practically purr. He rubs his hips in small circles against Derek's butt. “You're hot.” He kisses Derek's back.
</p>
  <p>     Derek snorts. “Really?” He turns the burner off. Looks like dinner is going to be put on hold. Perfect.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles pulls Derek away from the kitchen and out to the living room. He lets himself lean against the back of the couch.
</p>
  <p>     Derek pushes against Stiles, almost pushing him off the back of the couch. He grips Stiles hips tightly and grinds slowly against him. He's already hard, cock tenting his jeans. Derek's fingers are at Stiles' button. He actually licks his lips as he pops open the button and pulls down Stiles' zipper. When he sees what's beneath Stiles' jeans, he stills, breath catching. There's an audible swallow as he runs his thumb across the lace. “This isn't what we stole.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek's reaction is everything that Stiles had hoped for. He can't keep the pleased smile off his face. Nor can he stop the blush from warming his cheeks. “No, it's not. I got these on my own. Bought and paid for.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek kisses Stiles. His lips are eager and his teeth nip Stiles' bottom lip. He slides both hands down the backs of Stiles' jeans to squeeze his ass.
</p>
  <p>     That's about when Stiles tips over the back of the couch. He lets out a very manly, if startled, yelp, and looks up at Derek from where he's upside down on the cushions. “Don't you even dare laugh.” This was not how this was supposed to go.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is smiling openly but he doesn't laugh. Instead he uses the new position to tug off Stiles' jeans. After that, his own are gone in a matter of seconds. He takes a moment to appreciate the panties, eyeing Stiles with hunger in his gaze. Derek licks his lips, again, and rests his hands on Stiles' ankles. “Stay down there.” Derek runs his hands up Stiles' shins then back down to his ankles. “I like the way your legs feel in these.”
</p>
  <p>     “Yeah?” Stiles can't help the blush that spreads all the way to his ears. God, he never thought he'd be wearing these again. The first time was a joke, or supposed to be. How did he get from joke to serious? Is he going to start wearing them around the loft now? Would that make Derek want to fuck him more? If that's the case then Stiles is seriously going to have to consider it.
</p>
  <p>     Derek makes a noise of confirmation in his throat as he doubles over Stiles. He licks down Stiles' thigh, tongue leaving behind a trail of wet heat.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles wraps his legs around Derek's waist. “You aren't going to fuck me like this, are you?” There's a moment where Derek hesitates that makes Stiles' heart skip a beat.
</p>
  <p>     Then Derek shakes his head no. “If I did, you'd probably end up hitting your head on the floor and getting a concussion.” He moves his hand up to rub Stiles through the panties.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles whines as he arches into the touch. Pleasure and heat spark through him. “How then? Doggy style on the couch?”
</p>
  <p>     “That would work.” Derek lowers his head again to carefully suck at Stiles' thigh. His hand is still rubbing Stiles' cock, making a wet patch grow on the material. Only when Stiles is sufficiently hard – and his thighs are marked up – does Derek straighten up. “You ready?”
</p>
  <p>     “For your dick? I was born ready.” Which sounds really gross but it's out there now. Stiles scrambles to take up the proper position on the couch and to hide his blush. Even though Derek will be able to smell it on him. Ugh. Werewolves.
</p>
  <p>     With ease, Derek slides onto the couch behind him. Derek reaches between the couch cushions and produces a bottle of lube. He pops open the cap and moves aside Stiles' panties...but doesn't take them off. He pours a generous amount directly onto Stiles' hole. In a few minutes, Derek has pushed into Stiles. With the panties still on.
</p>
  <p>     Jesus Christ Derek Hale has a kink that isn't biting. Stiles loves the feeling of Derek's cock in him. Loves how the lube drips down his thighs like slick. He pushes back against Derek then realizes that he's going to be fucked into the couch if he keeps moving. In the end he focuses on staying upright and moans out his pleasure.
</p>
  <p>     Derek is fucking Stiles hard and fast when Stiles' cell phone starts to ring. Normally it's kept on vibrate – both of theirs are – but his is ringing. Stiles glances over at the phone and wills it to stop ringing.
</p>
  <p>     Derek growls at the phone but otherwise doesn't acknowledge it.
</p>
  <p>     “Going a little caveman there, aren't you?” Stiles chokes out around the moans that are being fucked out of him. He feels so good he's practically vibrating. Can feel the pleasure shooting up his spine and down the back of his legs, feel it pool inside of him and the rising tension that means an orgasm is close. Needless to say, Stiles doesn't want to stop.
</p>
  <p>     “Stiles, answer the fucking phone.”
</p>
  <p>     “I don't think the phone is the one doing the fucking.” Stiles giggles at his own joke, lame as it was. They don't really have a phone rule but maybe they should because Stiles does not want to be interrupted during this. Again. He reaches over to the coffee table for his phone and checks the caller ID. It's his dad. “Hold on, Derek, I gotta answer it.” He groans out the words, voice low with lust. Stiles waits until Derek has slowed to almost not moving before he accepts the call. “Hi dad.” God, his voice sounds horrible.
</p>
  <p>     If John Stilinski suspects anything about what his son may be up to, he doesn't say anything. “Stiles, I'd like it if you would invite Derek over for dinner tomorrow.”
</p>
  <p>     Ah. Stiles still isn't sure what his dad thinks about Derek. Obviously Derek is older than Stiles and was arrested for murder twice and he's a werewolf. But Derek obviously makes Stiles happy, which makes the complaints a little null and void. Plus there's the fact that Stiles is a witch so a witch dating a werewolf probably isn't that weird. “Of course. We'll be there.”
</p>
  <p>     His dad says something else about something but Stiles is tired of this conversation already. “Yeah, sorry, dad, I have to hang up. Got really important pack things to do. I'm hanging up. See you tomorrow. Bye.” Then, despite his dad's protests, Stiles does hang up.
</p>
  <p>     “Am I 'really important pack things?'” Derek chuckles at Stiles' demand but fulfills it regardless. He thrusts hard into Stiles and in a matter of moments makes him forget about the phone call.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles drops the phone on the floor – which is why he bought the case in the first place, so he can do that – then twists around to see Derek. “We're going to dad's tomorrow for dinner and also I want to ride your cock right now so move please. Also, yes you are.”
</p>
  <p>     His knot swells inside of Stiles, tying them together and making Derek's thrusts much shorter but with no less amount of force.
</p>
  <p>     And Stiles? He melts under Derek's touch as always. Because Derek is so good and big and he knows exactly how Stiles likes it. Stiles has also decided to invest in more pantie/stocking sets. It seems like a good idea if this level of enthusiasm is what he's going to get in response.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. In Front Of The Fireplace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek have sex in front of the fireplace.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>“Do you wanna be romantic?” Stiles asks. He's curled against Derek's side, wearing a hoodie – the red hoodie – some thigh high socks and his boxers. In the Sheriff's den with a roaring fireplace, there's no need for a lot of clothing. Stiles' scent is sweet with happiness and now there's a twinge of spicy lust.
</p>
  <p>     It isn't that Derek doesn't like to be romantic. He just has a bad feeling that he knows where Stiles is going with this. Mostly because he's been thinking about it since they first curled up together on this plush leather couch in front of the perfect fireplace with the soft-looking bearskin rug on the floor in front. It's fucking perfect. John Stilinski is a goddamn master when it comes to setting a mood. And the rug <i>has</i> been used for exactly what both he and Stiles are thinking of. Though the past scents of him and his wife are very, very, very faint.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes his silence as he wishes, which means nothing is out of the ordinary there. He gets up from Derek's side and stretches up onto his tiptoes. The low lighting makes his eyes look blacker than ever but the highlights caught in them are mischievous and seductive. The Nogitsune may be gone but it left some impression on Stiles and the worst part is that this impression isn't even a bad one. Stiles walks over to the door and locks it carefully. This is the only room in the Stilinski household that's sound proof; a fact that Stiles clearly wants to make use of.
</p>
  <p>     Derek's heart is beating a little faster. He'd be lying to everyone if he said it wasn't fear that has his heart pounding so fast. His eyes track Stiles every movement, trying to distract himself from the fact that his mate is getting <i>closer</i> to the <i>fire</i>. He swallows, hoping he can drown his nervousness and having no luck with it.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles stops in front of him and pulls Derek to his feet, gently, using both hands. He kisses both of Derek's inner wrists. “You want to know a secret, Sourwolf?” Expertly Stiles maneuvers them so that their left and right sides respectfully are facing the fire. He doesn't let go of Derek's hands.
</p>
  <p>     It's clearly Stiles' way of trying to distract him so Derek nods. He keeps his eyes focused on Stiles' eyes, on the warm highlights made by firelight on his face.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' pale face takes on a pretty flush to it, a hint of red in his cheeks. “I've always wanted to be fucked in front of this fireplace.” He lets go of Derek's hands and steps backwards. Slowly he eases himself down onto his butt then lays back, legs spread wide on either side of Derek's feet. His hands come up on either side of his head, palms up, muscles relaxed. Not once does he break eye contact. “Please, Derek?”
</p>
  <p>     Maybe Derek can pretend like it isn't a real fire. He's shaking when he kneels between Stiles' legs. For some reason it feels hotter on the ground than it did stretched out. The fire heats his skin so much it's almost uncomfortable. His eyes stay firmly on Stiles' face.
</p>
  <p>     It's almost worth the proximity when Stiles' face lights up. He looks, well happy, but proud too. His hands stay where they are on the rug. He doesn't even bring his knees tighter around Derek's hips. Stiles won't try to cage him, to keep Derek here. He doesn't say anything, just watches in that intense, curious way Stiles has.
</p>
  <p>     Which leaves it up to Derek to get them undressed and Derek to get them prepared. His hands are still shaking as he slides off his pajama pants. Stiles looks so good, all warm and exposed for him. But Derek is only half hard when normally he would be fully hard.
</p>
  <p>     Still, Stiles' gaze drops down to Derek's cock and the spicy scent of his lust gets stronger. There's a slight smile tugging at his lips now. His fingers twitch and it's amazing that he otherwise hasn't moved.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hooks his fingers in Stiles' boxers and pulls them down past his socks, setting them on the relatively cool leather of the couch. He gives a sharp intake at the contrast in temperature. But it's okay. He can do this. It's not like he was even one of the ones <i>inside</i> the house.
</p>
  <p>     “Derek,” Stiles reaches out to touch Derek's cheek with his cooler hand.
</p>
  <p>     Derek nuzzles Stiles' hand and breathes in his scent. He nods then kisses Stiles' inner wrist. There's no point in trying to explain himself; Stiles already knows. Derek takes one more settling breath before diving into Stiles. He kisses Stiles' neck, sucking marks into his pale skin.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles tastes warm like sweat and Stiles but also like the fire that's two feet away from them. He tilts his head back, exposing the healing mating marks on the column of his throat.
</p>
  <p>     Derek brushes his fangs against them in a teasing sort of way.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles gasps at the contact, body going rigid. Then he relaxes with a sigh. His hands twitch again as though he's desperate to touch Derek. But he doesn't.
</p>
  <p>     Very carefully Derek uses his mouth to pull down the zipper of Stiles' hoodie. It's got to be way too hot right here, with what they're doing, to wear the thing. He pushes it open, letting the material gather at Stiles' sides without trying to take it off. As he'd suspected, Stiles' skin is much hotter here. Derek drags his tongue from Stiles' waist to his throat then blows on the trail he made.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs as his body cools. His gaze is half-lidded as he watches Derek work him. “Feels good. Do it again?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek obliges, licking several more cool stripes along Stiles' torso. His mouth finds Stiles' nipples and he works each one with his tongue until they're both pebbled. He tries not to think of the fire but this isn't a large room and Stiles is hot with arousal beneath him. Derek is sweating and they haven't even gotten past foreplay yet.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is hard beneath him, precum cool on Derek's skin. He lets out content sighs, sometimes rolling his body into Derek's tongue and sometimes just shivering with pleasure. He watches Derek, never letting his eyes close for too long. “You're so good to me.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek glances up from Stiles' navel. He's getting harder the more he touches and licks Stiles; the more Stiles is turned on, the more Derek is. And Stiles is being so good, unusually good. No flailing limbs to dodge, no nails scratching down Derek's skin. The change of attitude is nice; though Derek is eager for when he's going to get his usual Stiles back. At this point he's so warm that he can't tell if the blush on his face is from arousal or embarrassment at the praise.
</p>
  <p>     It's been a long time since Derek has felt the need to hide from Stiles but he's feeling a hint of it now. He cups Stiles' ass to lift it off the floor then buries his face between Stiles' cheeks. His tongue comes out to lap at Stiles' entrance.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' thighs quiver. He lets out a surprised but pleased “oh.” His fingers curl into fists, around nothing in particular, as he rolls his hips up just a little bit. “Please, I want more. Tongue fuck me.” Which is Stiles' opinion of romance.
</p>
  <p>     But it does the trick for Derek. He licks harder, adding more pressure. Stiles is still a little stretched out from yesterday so pushing his tongue into Stiles' body is easy. Derek doesn't tongue fuck his mate like Stiles so obviously wants. He goes slow because Stiles wanted romance. He tastes Stiles, feels him clenching around his tongue, and the smoothness of his warm body. Derek doesn't stop until his lips are flush with Stiles' skin, tongue diving in as deep as possible.
</p>
  <p>     It breaks Stiles; rimming always does. He arches so much his spine should have snapped in half by now. His nails are digging into his palms, piercing skin and drawing small drops of blood. “Oh god, oh Derek, please, Derek, oh my god, fuck, it feels so good, don't stop, please-” There's the usual chatter that Derek is used to. Stiles uses his tiptoes to prop himself up and his legs shake all the more for it.
</p>
  <p>     Derek keeps at it until he's feeling light headed from lack of air. Which coincidentally happens to be when Stiles is lubed up enough to take his knot. He pulls away from Stiles with a gasp, lowering him back down with hands that shake. Seems like he can't get rid of the tremor tonight. His cock is fully hard now and he carefully presses it against Stiles' wet entrance.
</p>
  <p>     For a second Derek had managed to forget about the fire – hard to think of such things when your face is between your mate's ass cheeks – but now he can see it from his peripherals. He hovers between Stiles' legs, tense, and trying to control the panic that bubbles to the surface.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles' hand around his cock brings Derek back to the present and the task at hand. Dick. Whatever. He guides Derek into himself, into his giving, warm body. His moan is of equal pleasure and relief. “Easy, Sourwolf. I'm still sore from yesterday.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek has no doubt that Stiles is sore. He takes it easy because a.) fire two feet away and b.) he wants to be romantic for his mate. Maybe not in that order. Derek moves with long, slow thrusts. With every one he makes sure to hit Stiles' prostate.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles is as receptive as always. He rolls his hips up to meet every one of Derek's thrusts. Moans and mewls and Derek's name drop from his lips. His scent gets stronger and now it's mixed with Derek's and it's perfect the way they smell together and fit together.
</p>
  <p>     Even with Stiles here to reassure Derek, it's slow going. When he reaches out with his left hand to hold Stiles' right – the ones that are closest to the fireplace – Derek balks. He feels so ashamed of it – this fire is obviously contained and it's not going to - Jesus Christ -
</p>
  <p>     Stiles brings him back every time with a simple touch and the soft way he calls Derek's name. He pulls Derek's head down to his neck. “I love you. You're doing so good.” His fingers thread lightly through Derek's damp hair. His own hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat.
</p>
  <p>     Derek hides his face on the shadow side of Stiles' neck. He keeps up his movements, thrusts a little shorter with this angle but still dead on for accuracy. Stiles feels good around him, beneath him. His body is so hot and willing and god, those gorgeous black eyes that stare into Derek's soul and actually like what they see. Derek whimpers because he loves Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     When they cum – within minutes of each other – Derek feels like he's falling apart. He wraps his arms tightly around Stiles, holding their bodies close. “Never gonna let you go,” Derek growls out the words as his knot swells inside of Stiles. Then he's beyond words, lost to a pleasure so intense that all he can do is keen while he clings to Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles kisses his face and his ears, telling Derek that he loves him and mumbling nonsense that sounds a little like praise.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Blanket Fort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The packs build a blanket fort.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>When Derek answers the door he isn't surprised to see Stiles and Scott beaming at him with excitement. Okay, so the excitement is a little surprising – especially on Scott's part – but the fact that they're there is no surprise.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles reaches up on tiptoe to kiss Derek. “Hey, come help us unload.” Then they're both bounding off like puppies for the exit.
</p>
  <p>     Derek narrows his eyes after them but shoves his feet into his boots and follows them out the front door. When he sees Stiles' Jeep, Derek can't help but stare. Tied to the top of it are two mattresses that smell distinctly like Stiles and Scott. “Stiles, if you wanted to move in you didn't have to bring your mattress.” He glances at Scott, debating briefly. If it came down to it, he wouldn't leave the other alpha out of a place to live. “You are aware that we have a couch?”
</p>
  <p>     Scott grins. “I know what happens on that couch.” He's untying the knots on the rope that keeps the mattresses secure.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs and shoves him. “Stupid werewolf nose.” He turns to Derek. “I'm not moving in but I will keep that in mind for future reference. These are for the blanket fort.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek cocks his head to the side. “Aren't blanket forts supposed to have blankets?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs again like Derek is hilarious. “So he does know what a blanket fort is!” He helps Scott get the first mattress off, which smells distinctly like Scott. They carry it towards Derek, Stiles pausing when they're next to each other. He holds up his keys. “There are blankets in the back.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes Stiles' keys with a sigh. He pulls an armload of blankets out of the back of Stiles' Jeep and carries them upstairs.
</p>
  <p>     Scott is manhandling the mattress and Stiles is directing him. “Okay, move it a little more over there.”
</p>
  <p>     “Where is there, Stiles?” Scott's face is squished against his mattress.
</p>
  <p>     “To your left.” Stiles points to his right, which is how Derek knows that Stiles is just fucking with Scott. He catches Derek's eye and winks.
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes but he's smiling. He dumps the blankets on the couch then goes back out for the other mattress. It's a bitch to manhandle the mattress by himself but Derek does it because he's an alpha and he can provide for his mate. Even though this is Stiles' mattress to begin with. And it's for a blanket fort.
</p>
  <p>     Almost as soon as Derek is in the loft, Stiles tackles him. They fall onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Stiles' is absolutely glowing. He smiles at Derek then lowers his head to kiss him.
</p>
  <p>     Derek squeezes Stiles' ass, holding him close.
</p>
  <p>     Scott interrupts before things can get more heated. “Okay, gross, you two. You know that I'm still in the room, right? And everyone is on their way over?”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs but moves to get up off of Derek.
</p>
  <p>     Derek pulls Stiles back down to kiss him one more time. Then he releases him and gets to his feet. From outside he can hear the tires of asphalt as cars pull into the parking lot. It looks like the rest of the packs have arrived. Derek only hopes that there aren't any more mattresses. His living room will look like a cheap insane asylum. They come bearing carloads of supplies for the fort. It seems like they're determined to make the most of this.
</p>
  <p>     Derek can't tell them no. They're still technically kids and some of them didn't even get to have proper childhoods. The packs want to have fun and act like big kids and Derek isn't going to be the one to take their joy away.
</p>
  <p>     It takes skill to make a blanket fort big enough for sixteen people. It also takes a lot of soft stuff. There are two more mattresses but mostly couch cushions, pillows, and blankets. The fact that most of the pack is underage and are therefore stealing their parent's cushions is not lost on Derek. They hang up sheets and blankets to cover the brick walls then fasten more to hang low over their heads, making a tent. Most of the pack can't stand up without hitting their head on a blanket and so they crawl around the confined space. Somehow Stiles found the time to string up <i>more</i> Christmas lights inside the space and so the colorful LED glow lights up everyone's skin like bruises.
</p>
  <p>     The temperature rises fairly quickly with so many bodies producing heat in a small space but no one complains one bit; especially not once they're curled up and lounging with each other. It's a sophisticated puppy pile; if you can call the blanket fort sophisticated. In a matter of an hour, Derek's entire loft is full of the mixed scents of the packs.
</p>
  <p>     It's a little disorienting for his poor wolf. A wolf who has had to deal with Derek doing a lot of things non-traditionally. Such as living as a beta with only Laura as his alpha, then alone as an omega, and finally as a co-alpha with Scott. Because whether Derek likes to admit it or not, their packs are more than less intertwined.
</p>
  <p>     Most packs are friendly with each other and there are some cross-marriages but they tend to have their own established territories relatively far from each other and only visit on special occasions. With the McCall and Hale packs, there are their living spaces that only truly belong to the alphas and even then there's no guarantee that someone isn't going to trespass. That's why Derek's bedroom is off limits to everyone except Stiles and Isaac; though Isaac hasn't been coming around often. His wolf needs a space that is completely his.
</p>
  <p>     The couples pair up as they always do. Ethan and Aiden sitting together with Lydia and Danny on either side of them. Kira and Malia with Jackson and Cora off to one side plotting something involving a lot of climbing up vertical surfaces. Erica and Boyd typically stay close to Derek and Stiles. On their other side are Allison and Isaac. The two of them are trying to pretend like Scott isn't sitting close – because of Stiles' proximity to Derek – with his beta Liam curled in his lap like a puppy.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles plays host, getting everyone drinks and breaking out the snacks. No one is expecting the snacks to last long but it will take the edge off of teen werewolf hunger. When he's done he flops down on his stomach next to Derek on an anime body pillow that smells like Kira. “Hey there, sourwolf.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek responds with a nuzzle to the back of Stiles' neck.
</p>
  <p>     “So we all know why we're here,” Lydia starts off. She looks absolutely perfect curled into Aiden's side with the skirt of her dress fanned out around her and her stocking toes peeking out from beneath it.
</p>
  <p>     There are murmurs of agreement from the packs.
</p>
  <p>     Derek does not know why they're here but if this is a serious pack meeting, he's a little concerned about their mental state. He settles his torso on top of Stiles, not putting his full weight into it but securely pinning him in place.
</p>
  <p>     Around Derek's feet, his legs get tangled with Erica's. She's stretched out like a kitten, her head on a pillow on Boyd's lap. Boyd is braiding Erica's hair. Pressed back to back with Boyd is Cora. Though Cora and the rest of Derek's betas aren't very warm towards each other, they still need each other.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac's stocking feet are pressed against Derek's side. He holds Allison's hand while he leans against her. They both smell sweetly content. “I'll go first,” Isaac raises his free hand. “I'm Isaac and my first kill was a dove.”
</p>
  <p>     “Oh man, you killed the bird of peace?” Scott laughs.
</p>
  <p>     Isaac laughs back, sounding a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. It was Boyd and Erica's fault. We were running in the woods one day and Erica bet that we couldn't catch birds.” He gives a little shrug. “I caught the bird. Had feathers in my mouth for hours.” There's a smile on his face as he recalls the memory.
</p>
  <p>     “You guys should have seen him! He jumped up in the air like a cat!” Erica laughs as she untangles one of her feet to nudge Isaac.
</p>
  <p>     Kira raises her hand. “Hi I'm Kira and my first kill was the Berserker. I got a tail!” She smiles and her scent turns rich with pride. The group gives their congratulations. It's a big deal for a kitsune to get a tail.
</p>
  <p>     Malia, as always, looks bored and angry about being here but she raises her hand too. “My name's Malia and I've killed so much I don't remember which was my first.” It's clear by the way she draws into herself that she isn't going to share anymore than that.
</p>
  <p>     When he realizes what this is about, Derek feels some apprehension. As far as he knows, the Nogitsune killings were the first that Stiles committed. His worries prove unfounded, though.
</p>
  <p>     “Hi, my name is Stiles and my first kill was a huge freaking spider like you've never seen before.” Stiles' voice tells Derek that he's smiling. “So there I was in the bathroom minding my own business and putting gel in my hair -” That gets some laughs. Stiles' hair is getting longer but most of them know him only with buzzed hair. “Shut up. As I was saying, styling my hair because I was going to ask Lydia Martin to the Valentines Day dance. When I look down and holy shit there's this huge spider crawling across the counter. The only thing I had in my hand was the tube of gel so I squeezed it out onto the spider and lit the bitch on fire. Dad claims that I almost burned the house down but I had it under control.”
</p>
  <p>     There's more laughter as they imagine it. Derek finds himself smiling even though he's almost positive that he heard Stiles heart rate increase for a moment there when he mentioned the spider.
</p>
  <p>     “Derek, it's your turn.” Lydia brings the group back as they get a little out of hand.
</p>
  <p>     Derek takes a minute to remember back farther. His first, instinctual thought is that his family was his first kill but no, it would have had to have been when he was pup. Their first hunt as a family on a full moon. “I was seven, on a hunt with my family during the full moon. I wasn't supposed to be there for the hunt but I thought it would be more fun than staying home with my baby sister.” He sticks his tongue out at Cora. “The rest of the pack brought down a deer but I'd found a rabbit.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles laughs. “I bet your mom was so proud of you.” He twists around to grin at Derek. “I'm proud of you and I know you can do better than a bunny now.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek can't even stop himself from the pride that seizes him. Stiles approves and he was right; Talia was impressed with his kill.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Christmas Cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The packs give Stiles Christmas cookies.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>“Here, man. Merry Christmas.” Scott hands a tin of cookies into Stiles' hands with a nonchalant shrug. “I don't even know how mom managed to make so many damn cookies what with the double shifts at the hospital.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles peeks into the tin and grins. They're sugar cookies, decorated to look like snowmen. “Oh man, I love your mom's cookies.” His mouth waters at the sight of them. But he's going to have to be careful about these around his dad. This is always the time of year that Stiles worries the most about him and his diet; now especially it's important that the sheriff doesn't cheat on his diet. “Tell her thanks for me.”
</p>
  <p>     Scott nudges him with a laugh. “Tell her yourself, dude. You have a phone. Or, you should come visit sometime. She really misses you.”
</p>
  <p>     Hearing that makes Stiles absolutely glow with happiness. He's glad that Scott's mom thinks of him so highly. Stiles definitely doesn't deserve it. The two part ways as Scott takes off into the woods for his afternoon run and Stiles takes the cookies back to his Jeep.
</p>
  <p>     About ten minutes later, Liam corners Stiles at the gas station. He looks determined, almost angry.  He's holding a tin. “These are for you.” Liam all but shoves the container at Stiles then runs off.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles tilts his head in confusion. He opens the tin to see chocolate chip cookies inside. Huh. They go in the Jeep with the ones Scott gave him. Stiles shrugs the incident off. Liam is a weird kid but he seems to have good intentions here. He pays for his gas then gets into the Jeep and heads to the grocery store.
</p>
  <p>     It seems like maybe more than a coincidence to find the twins at the same grocery store that Stiles is at. They come towards him with their threatening gait but the effect is sort of ruined by the fact that they're both holding fancy Christmas tins.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles watches them approach together, not really feeling threatened. They're scary, sure, because Stiles knows what they can do, but it's a lot like how Scott is scary. He could tear Stiles limb from limb but he won't. Being around the werewolves is like being around a familiar dog; the dog can do damage but it probably won't. This is the same thing. Not that Stiles would ever say that to anyone ever. “Hey, it's my favorite twins!” Stiles smiles when they get closer.
</p>
  <p>     Ethan and Aiden smile at the same time. They mirror each other's movements, likely without noticing. “How are you enjoying your alpha?” They hand him the tins. Judging by the fanciness, it was Lydia and/or Danny who put them together.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles doesn't know if they're talking about Scott or Derek. Either way...“I love him.” Stiles sets the tins in his cart. “How are you enjoying <i>your</i> alpha?”
</p>
  <p>     Sometimes when they're together like this, without their significant others, Ethan and Aiden are more one person than two. “He's good.” Then they look at each other and walk away without a goodbye.
</p>
  <p>     That was weirder than the thing with Liam. Stiles shrugs it off. Sometimes werewolves are weird. He doesn't have all of the answers. Maybe later he’ll ask Derek about this weird thing Scott’s betas are doing. Instead, he has to go to Deaton’s office to return one of the books he borrowed.
</p>
  <p>     At the vet’s office Stiles is somewhat surprised to see Kira. She’s sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting room. The smile Kira offers him when she sees him doesn’t reach her eyes.
</p>
  <p>     “Hey, is everything okay?” Stiles didn’t notice anything in the group chat earlier but it’s been a few hours since he last checked it.
</p>
  <p>     Kira nods. “Malia twisted her paw while she was out running this afternoon. It seems to be taking a long time to heal.” She doesn’t add that Malia was in coyote form and therefore couldn’t go to see a regular doctor. Or even Scott’s mom, since she specializes only in humans. “Deaton says that she’ll be fine if she stops being so stubborn.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles nods, understanding how stubborn Malia can be. He walks over to the barrier and pushes on the door. He feels a humming as his magic interacts with the magic in the barrier. Stiles channels his belief that the door will open for him then the door gives and Stiles walks through. Not even Mr. True Alpha Scott can do that. And because of this little party trick of Stiles’, his packs don’t know that Stiles isn’t entirely human.
</p>
  <p>     Sure, they know he has a spark, but they don’t know that mountain ash works on him the same way it does on the other supernatural creatures.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles finds Deaton in the examination room with Malia. “Hey Deaton, Malia.” He holds up the book he’s returning.
</p>
  <p>     “Good evening, Mr. Stilinski.” Deaton doesn’t look up from where he’s touching Malia’s paw. He has his working expression on his face, though his voice remains its usual calm.
</p>
  <p>     Malia flickers her ears at Stiles then flashes her eyes blue at him. Otherwise she remains silent on the examination table. She doesn’t normally let people touch her like this so she must be in quite a bit of pain for her to let Deaton do as he pleases without putting up a fight.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles backs out of the examination room to go to Deaton’s office. He places the book on the shelf then picks out another one.
</p>
  <p>     When he comes back out to the waiting room, Kira has a tin in her hands. “Here you go, Stiles. From Malia and I.” She holds it out to him.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles takes the tin and thanks her. He has the feeling that it’s going to be cookies and wonders where she pulled this out of. Stiles only gets as far as his Jeep before he’s stopped by Cora and Jackson.
</p>
  <p>     Cora bounds up to him and rubs her face against his face, scenting him. It’s not as intimate as what Derek does but it’s clear that she considers him part of the Hale family. She smiles tensely at him then nudges Jackson.
</p>
  <p>     Jackson is holding a plain gift bag. With stiff movements he hands it to Stiles. “Enjoy, Stilinski.” The words sound like they’re said between gritted teeth. With that apparent torture over, Jackson takes Cora’s hand and pulls her away from Stiles.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles peeks inside the gift bag. There’s another tin. It probably has cookies in it. He smiles, bewildered, and shakes his head. Carefully he places Kira’s tin inside with the one from Cora and Jackson. What a weird day.
</p>
  <p>     Over the course of the next two hours worth of errands, the Baby Betas manage to track down Stiles at three separate locations and give him more cookie tins. At this point, Stiles is almost ready to say fuck no to their cookie gifts - where is he going to hide all these fucking cookies? are they trying to make him fat? - but then Isaac and Allison look so hopeful and sound so earnest in their hopes that Stiles will enjoy the cookies that Stiles really can’t say no.
</p>
  <p>     Which is how Stiles ends up with nine open cookie tins on his bed, all of which are full of different kinds of cookies. He decides to go with a bowl of milk rather than a glass and dunks every cookie before taking a bite.
</p>
  <p>     The only thing surprising about Derek’s visit is that he's actually used the stairs this time, which heavily implies that he used the front door. Derek breaks this theory in a matter of seconds, “The back door was unlocked.” Which means they should probably buy a new lock.
</p>
  <p>     “You're paying for the damages”, Stiles replies easily. He dips an Oreo into his bowl of warm milk then takes a bite. His tongue darts out to lick up the milk on his chin.
</p>
  <p>     “Where did all these come from?” Derek gestures to the open tins of cookies.
</p>
  <p>     “Oh, funny story, but the packs gave them to me.” Stiles shrugs. He’s trying not to think that maybe the packs are fattening him up. Like a pig for the slaughter. Or maybe not. “I mean Scott always gives me his leftover Christmas cookies but only one of these tins are from him.”
</p>
  <p>     To his surprise, Derek actually does laugh. When he’s done with whatever is so funny, he grins at Stiles. “It’s a werewolf thing, Stiles. Someone saw Scott give you cookies and since he’s the alpha of that pack, the rest of them did it too. Then someone from my pack saw that and they decided that they didn’t want to be outdone. Bonus points, you’re the alpha’s mate.” He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of Stiles surrounded by cookie tins.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles opens the group chat on his phone just in time to see Derek demand that everyone come to the Sheriff’s house <i>now</i> and help eat all these damn cookies.
</p>
  <p>     The response is fast and soon everyone is over, lounging around Stiles’ room with glasses and bowls of milk. And if Stiles teases them relentlessly for their outrageous werewolf behavior, well they kind of agree with him even if their faces are burning red with embarrassment.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Snowed In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The power goes out. Stiles and Derek snuggle together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>The day before New Years Eve seems to be just as busy for the Beacon Hills police and so the Sheriff spent the night at the station, keeping the hooligans in check for the night. Which means that Derek got to spend the night without leaving Stiles' bedroom door open. It's the little things in life that make Derek happy.
</p>
  <p>     Like right now he's curled up beneath the covers with Stiles. His mate fits perfectly against the curve of Derek's body. Like he was born to be there. Derek nuzzles Stiles' hair and breathes in his scent. It should be perfect. Except. Derek is fucking cold. Colder than he should be, anyway, which means that Stiles must be freezing.
</p>
  <p>     “Der, close the window,” Stiles slurs in his sleep. He snuggles closer to the werewolf as a shiver wracks him. Then he rolls over so that they're facing each other.
</p>
  <p>     Derek doesn't think the window is open but he pokes his head out of the covers to look over. As he thought, it's closed. He looks over at Stiles' alarm clock and sees the blinking numbers. “The power is out.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles lets out a pitiful groan. “Why?” He whines and burrows deeper so that his face is by Derek's abdomen. “Hey, don't be getting any ideas about why I'm down here.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek huffs. “I can't help it, Stiles.” He puts his head back under the covers because its a little warmer under here. He knows that he'll need to get out of bed and gather more blankets and see if the batteries for the heated blanket will work but Stiles will complain. Because Stiles and cold do not go well together at all. It's amazing he was able to sacrifice himself in that tub of ice water.
</p>
  <p>     “How are you even hard? It's like negative twelve hundred degrees.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek rolls his eyes. “If it was that cold, we'd both freeze.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles promptly slips his hands between Derek's thighs. He sighs. “God, you're so warm. Let's fuck.”
</p>
  <p>     Well that did nothing to deter Derek's erection, even if Stiles fingers are a little chilly. “Stiles.”
</p>
  <p>     “Derek, I'm so serious.” Stiles doesn't sound serious at all. “Make me some hot chocolate.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek can get blankets and snuggle Stiles to keep warm but he can't make hot chocolate without electricity. He tells Stiles as much. “Why don't you make both of us hot chocolate?”
</p>
  <p>     “Just put the mug between your thighs and it'll warm up.” Which is really Derek's first clue that Stiles is just being a brat. Which, to be fair, is how he gets when he's cold. The spark is called a spark for reason. It prefers heat to cold. Even the Nogitsune didn't care much for the cold, despite being a void creature. The void is apparently warm.
</p>
  <p>     “That's not how that works.” Derek firmly removes Stiles hands from between his thighs then slips out from beneath the blanket. The cold completely kills his boner. He is a normal werewolf after all and even they are susceptible to cold. It suddenly occurs to him that he can change to his fur coat and he should be good. Stiles would probably like cuddling with him too.
</p>
  <p>     But first Derek hurries through the house. He collects some bottled water from the fridge and brings that back to put on the floor by the bed. Then he gathers all of the warmest blankets he can find and arranges them on the lump that is Stiles. Derek closes Stiles' bedroom door and puts a thinner blanket between the door and the floor. He walks over to the window and shivers as he hangs up yet another blanket. Maybe that will help keep their body heat in.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles hasn't moved at all except to curl in on himself more. He's talking – ranting - about something – probably the cold and werewolves because those are his two favorite topics as of late – but his voice is muffled and Derek honestly isn't listening right now.
</p>
  <p>     “Lift up the covers for me, Stiles.” Without waiting to see if Stiles is going to listen to him, Derek shifts into a wolf. It's significantly less cold with a thick fur coat. He puts his front paws up on the bed.
</p>
  <p>     Reluctantly Stiles lifts the covers. He's squinting into the light and cold but his expression softens when he sees Derek. “C'mon up, furball. Keeping me warm with fur is probably a lot better than keeping me warm with sex. Though not as fun.”
</p>
  <p>     Derek jumps up onto the bed and burrows beneath the covers. He turns around then lays down beside Stiles, making sure to keep his face out of the covers. It's going to get really hot in here but Stiles is nuzzling into the fur by Derek's shoulder and Derek thinks he doesn't mind too much.
</p>
  <p>     They lay in silence for a few minutes before Stiles asks, “Do you think it's a snow spirit?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek huffs. He's fairly certain they've had this conversation before. He makes a noise in his throat that, after a lot of working out between the two of them, Stiles knows means '<i>shut up, Stiles.</i>'
</p>
  <p>     Stiles just gives an annoyed grunt and nuzzles Derek's leg. He runs his hands through Derek's fur. Slowly the motions ease to a stop and Stiles' breathing evens out with sleep. Well, today should be an easy day for them both.
</p>
  <p>     Derek stays up, keeping watch over his mate.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. New Years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek celebrate the end of a year.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="font-darknavy">
  <p>Derek and Stiles sit on the balcony and share a bottle of champagne between them. The chairs they sit on are new – for them – something they just picked up at Goodwill specifically for tonight. The radio is playing just loud enough for Stiles to hear it while they count down the new year.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs more than once. He stares up at the sky, takes a drink directly from the champagne bottle because they're classless like that. When he puts the bottle down, he brings Derek's knuckles to his lips and kisses them.
</p>
  <p>     Derek snatches the bottle from him. It's laced with wolfsbane but frankly it isn't going to get either of them drunk because there's so little of it. He watches Stiles from the corner of his eye and thinks that this is nice. “You're quiet again.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles hums in his throat. “Just thinking about what I want to do this year. You know, new years resolutions and all. I figured I should have some or something since I made it through the year alive.” He shrugs as though it's no big deal. There are probably people everywhere having similar conversations. “I'm just deciding what I want out of this year, you know?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek shakes his head. “I have everything I want.” New years resolutions always seemed stupid and lazy to him. Why bother waiting for the new year when you can work to improve right away? Apparently it's just one of those many things that Derek just doesn't get.
</p>
  <p>     As though reading his mind, Stiles laughs. “I want to go furniture shopping for the loft. If we're staying in it, and it looks like we are, I'd like it to at least look like it's been lived in by someone who cares about it.” There Stiles goes again with the <i>ours.</i>
</p>
  <p>     Derek doesn't mind. What's his is Stiles. “That's going to cost a lot of money.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles rolls his eyes. “Oh please. I know exactly how much money you have. You can buy some actual furniture. Imagine if our guests didn't have to sit on the floor. They'd be shocked.” He licks his lips then makes a grabby gesture for the bottle.
</p>
  <p>     “How do you know how much money I have?” Derek passes the bottle over to him with a frown. What's his is Stiles but he thought that maybe he had stuff Stiles <i>didn't</i> know about. And it's not like they talk about this. For fucks sake, Derek has a P.O. Box in town so his mail doesn't even come here.
</p>
  <p>     Before he answers, Stiles takes another drink. “You sound like my dad.” His black eyes are shining mischievously. He doesn't seem overly upset to have given his snooping away. “Why give me all the tools to be a detective then get mad when I use them?”
</p>
  <p>     Derek decides to let it go for now. He brings Stiles' wrist to his face and rubs his stubble against it. “Is that what you want to be when you graduate?”
</p>
  <p>     “I'm really glad you didn't say when I grow up.” Stiles chuckles. He looks up to the stars again and shrugs. “I'd be good at it, I think. I just don't know how I'd become a detective. I can't leave the pack and it wouldn't be fair to ask all of them to travel with me. Plus it's not like I can just walk away from the supernatural life. That shit follows you. But I don't think that there's a supernatural department unless it's something like what the Argents do.”
</p>
  <p>     Those are some valid points but they make Derek's heart ache. There shouldn't be a reason that Stiles can't leave Beacon Hills and pursue the career he wants. Derek missed out on his dreams but that doesn't mean the rest of his pack has to. “We'll talk to the pack about it, see what everyone's plans are for after high school, and work it out. Don't discard your dreams yet.”
</p>
  <p>     Stiles gives Derek a surprised look. Then he nods and looks away. This time he's smiling and his scent is sweet with happiness. He lifts Derek's fingers to his lips and kisses the tips. “Fireworks should be starting about now.”
</p>
  <p>     Their eyes lift to the sky. Soon enough the fireworks start shooting into the sky. From where they sit, the display is a little far away. Still close enough to see and definitely close enough to hear the booms. A few minutes into the show, Derek swears that he can hear an echo. It sets him on edge but it's probably just a trick of his hearing; the sound of the fireworks bouncing off the canyons.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles bites his lip. There's a new tension in the way he holds Derek's hand but he doesn't speak a single word. Words bring things to life and so some are best not spoken at all. It doesn't seem to surprise either of them when Stiles' phone starts vibrating. He picks it up and swipes to answer. “Hey Scotty.”
</p>
  <p>     “You and Derek have to get to the animal clinic right now.” Scott's tiny phone voice sounds panicked.
</p>
  <p>     Stiles sighs. “Those sounds weren't fireworks, were they?” His ring is spinning, an indication that he's unhappy as though his scent didn't give him away.
</p>
  <p>     Scott confirms their fears. They had heard gunshots.
</p>
  <p>     “We'll be right there.” Stiles hangs up the phone then sighs. He scoots to the edge of his chair to lean over and kiss Derek. There's a sad smile on his face but he doesn't seem perturbed by the tipping of the scales. Then again, they both saw this coming. “It was nice while it lasted.”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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